


The Strangers Shall Swallow It Up

by B_Radley



Series: The Minstrel Boy [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Post-War, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:24:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: The final month of the Clone War. Lives will be changed forever.





	1. Prologue

**Shili**  
**Plains of Shandai**  
**Empire Day minus 29**

A huntress gradually comes awake. She smiles as she feels the tug of the bonds of cloth on her left hand. She looks over at the red and white cloths that tie her to the right hand of a differently hued red limb.

 _After all of what we did last night, they are still tied._ Her heart jumps at the thought. At the hope for the future.

Her smile fades as she thinks of her occupation. Of its stringent codes and the orthodox guardians of adherence to it.

Her lip curls into a rare sneer. _Attachment._ The word itself sends many of those guardians into a spasm of disdain.

_Don't they realize that in some way, we are 'attached' to everyone and everything in the Force?_

Her expression softens as she hears a giggle from her left side. She looks over and sees a pair of laughing black eyes looking at her, a seductive smile on the full lips mirroring the emotion signified by those black orbs.

Black orbs that are making a place slightly lower down than her heart jump. "What?" she says, her own eyes smiling.

"I just know your Jedi Council look, my heart," Daaineran Faygan says, her laughter rising. "It's only slightly different than your Taliesin Croft look. More of a sneer than a long-suffering half-grin."

"You know me too well, dear," the Master says. She reaches over and claims the Zeltron's lips. Her lips move down and play over the younger woman's throat.

The black eyes swirl with emotion. She looks down. Ti catches her emotions through the resonance. She sees the troubled look on the young woman's face.

"Ti, what..?"

Her heart-bond places her unbound fingers over Dani's lips. Dani's eyes close at the myriad of tastes, as her tongue briefly touches the hand.

"No, Dani, love. Let's not think about the future, right this minute. I want to hold last night's memories for longer."

Dani nods. "Okay, Shaak. There are just so many things that we have to worry about. Not the least is the whole Code thing. I am so much younger than you. What if you get bored with my foolishness; the fact that I seek comforts elsewhere?"

Ti smiles. "What about when you get bored by an old woman constantly wanting to turn you inside out? Plus, little girl, I am not so much older than you. Two decades isn't that much older. Besides," she says, as her smile morphs into a familiar smirk, "you are only a month or two older than my Padawan, I can still kick his ass anytime, anywhere, under any circumstances. I should still be able to make you scream in my dotage as well." Their shared laughter swells in brightening morning.

Her features soften. "As for the other, I know what we said in the heart-bond vows. We will always come back to our hearts. I also know your biology's needs. I still have some hunt-brothers and sisters around here somewhere, if you want some variety." Her eyes take on a devilish glint that Dani would have never thought possible in a Jedi Master before the war.

Dani's eyes again grow serious. "Speaking of which, you didn't say anything when I told you about Taliesin and Ahsoka."

Ti considers her answer. "I can't say much. I know how close they are. I also know what it means to be a hunt-brother and hunt-sister. I never really stressed that aspect of it; because they were also Jedi. I don't know how I would feel if Ahsoka was still a Padawan, even one of age."

"Of course, I don't know if I am the right person to talk. I have had my own little--encounters with Padawans." Even when Croft was still mine. _A memory of blue skin and lekku, plus the 'grief' from Croft as he was returning from 'studying'; or his own exploration with different blue skin and lekku, or pale skin and blonde hair or darker skin and dark hair;_ flashes unbidden. She shakes her head.

Dani smiles. "You should've seen them together, Shaak. I could see the change come over them as they realized it. It was beautiful."

She notices that Ti's eyes are welling. She kisses her cheek. "I hope that they find each other again, Shaak," the young officer says. "I do get the feeling that Croft is coming to a decision regarding the Jedi. One that he said, no one will like."

Ti nods. "I know. I have a feeling that he, like his hunt-sister, may find his path elsewhere." She looks down. "I know that I wanted him to stay with the Jedi when Draq' told him of his birthright. But now, after this war, Ahsoka, the clones--Elle and Drop, it may the right decision for him to leave."

Dani nods. "Baldrick is still working on that data about Project Replica. He said that he should have something for you soon."

Dani reaches over and kisses Ti gently. "What about you, Shaak? How do you feel about the Jedi?"

Ti returns her kiss, but looks thoughtfully at the rising sun. She looks again at her heart-bond. _So beautiful. Such light._ "I cannot leave the Jedi Order. It has been my life for over forty years, my love. I will, as soon as this damned war is over and maybe the darkness recedes, work to change the Code. To change it back to the old ways. To the one that Taliesin recites and the one that bears no mention of Attachment." She smiles. "Or at least no mention of healthy attachments and bonds in the universe of sentient beings."

"I will also make sure that our younger members lose the alienation that the darkness has cast over them. Jedi like Taliesin. And his hunt-sister." Her eyes grow somber and glisten with a slight wetness for her Padawan and her young huntress.

"I don't know if I will succeed. If I can't, or those with like-sentiments, then I hope that your father-who-is-not will give his daughter by marriage a job." They both laugh as they join in tears as well.

Ti nods, wiping her eyes. "Enough of this. I have a need to hear the songs that we heard last night." Dani squeaks as Ti pulls her on top of her. Her eyes flash with darkness as she shoves their bound arms above the Master's montrals. Dani sits up as high as she can and moves up to straddle her heart's chest. She reaches down and kisses the huntress before her knees move to either side of Ti's lekku. She cries out as she feels her lover's tongue. Their bound hands clasp as the light in their eyes joins with the bright morning sunlight.

 **Wildspace**  
**Unknown Republic Frigate**  
**Empire Day minus 29**

The Alpha stares out at his command as they assemble in the tiny hanger for the briefing. All of them are his true brothers - no recalcitrant Nulls or useless Normals. All of them at the rank of Captain.

None of them, save him, listed on any Republic registry of the Grand Army of the Republic. None of them counted among the hundred or so known Alphas in service.

He looks out at the twenty or so expectant faces. All of them mirroring his own; save for the age. These were the last batch of Alphas produced and trained.

All trained for a higher purpose. The defense of the Republic against rogue Jedi.

"My brothers," the Commander says, "the time is drawing near. What you were bred for."

He quashes memories of a particular Jedi. A young Jedi leading his troops into battle. On his own even before he was knighted. A young Jedi who had proven that Nulls, Alphas, and normals could live together, fight together, and die together, if need be. Even loving together in at least a couple of cases.

For each other.

All except for him. He tamps and drives the memories deep inside of himself. He also drives the voices away. _They're not worthy of you. They were not bred to lead. They were bred to kill or to serve. Even with ARC training._

He looks at his true brothers again. "Some of you will go to Corellia and Drall. We have gotten information that a traitor has spirited away an important research project for the Republic. We are to find the traitor and terminate her, as well as destroy the experiment. He nods to one team.

He looks at a smaller group of four. "Others will go to our birth-world and observe the Jedi General Ti. There is information that she and other Jedi are conspiring against the Republic. We will await the protocol at the proper time, but will act if we see the need."

He smiles and nods at the last group. The best and the toughest. "The last twelve of you will go with me to Coruscant and make sure that any assistance that is needed if the Protocol has to be enacted is rendered."

"That is all, my brothers," he says. "Execute your orders."

The twenty Alphas. All men with no known numbers snap to attention and salute. They exit the compartment to their various shuttles.

The brother with a remaining number returns their salute. Alpha-17 gives in to the voices.


	2. 1. A fog has destroyed the world so gently.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Jedi and a trooper learn of family.

**Kamino**  
**Tipoca City**  
**One week later**

Elle Jaquindo walks into her former Master's quarters. Ti rises, smiling at the Chalactan Jedi. Her smile grows into a grin as Drop follows her. The newly appointed Sergeant-Major of the 501st raises an eyebrow, but matches her grin.

He and Elle look at one another as they see the normally reserved Jedi Master exuding such joy. Elle smiles. _Could there be an explanation for this? Perhaps a crimson-skinned one?_

Elle stops as they enter the sitting room. Phygus Baldrick, self-proclaimed 'big brother' of Taliesin Croft and talented slicer sits at the table, his datapad resting in front of him. Elle had only met him a few times when he was still a Jedi, but remembered the story of his epic ejection from the Jedi. A story that had nearly resulted in Taliesin Croft's expulsion as well.

He stands and walks over to her. He takes her hand. "Hello, Elle. It's been awhile."

"Yes it has, Phygus." She smirks. "Does the fact that the very large clone that is accompanying me might twist you into new and different shapes have something to do with the fact that you have not made a suggestive comment to me?"

He smiles slightly. "Didn't even notice him, darling. Just know that there is a time and place."

Elle closes her eyes at the uncharacteristic seriousness of his words. She turns to Ti.

"What is this about, Master?"

"Phygus has finally decrypted that information you got from Raxus a couple of years ago."

"Over two years?" Drop says incredulously. "Croft always told me you had a big brain, little man. What took you so long?"

Baldrick looks at him evenly, fire flashing from his gaze. "My brain is one of two big organs that Croft was always envious of, Muscles. I've found that both of them work better slowly and deliberately instead of charging in half-cocked, as it were."

Elle places her hand on Drop's arm as he turns to the little slicer. Ti snorts. "Phygus, I'm not going to save your tiny little body from your mouth. Please do not antagonize the large trooper. Continue."

Phygus nods. He bows his head in a brief apology to Drop. Drop sits at the table. "It's not just the encryption. It was all of the science contained in it. We were only able to recognize both of your names in it, as well as reference to genetic material being removed from you without your consent, Elle. Plus the rather ominous, blatant project name--Replica."

Ti walks over and sits next to both Elle and Drop. "It is not good news, my children."

Elle looks at Drop as he squeezes her hand. She turns to Ti. "Tell us."

"Someone has copied your genetic material Elle. As well as combined it with Drop's."

Elle closes her eyes. "Were they successful in cloning me?"

Ti nods. "From what we can tell, yes, they were. A viable clone survived."

Elle nods, her eyes welling. "I am assuming from Dooku's offhand comment to me on Raxus that the Seps were involved." She closes her eyes. _We have something of yours._

"Yes," Phygus say. "But someone in the Republic was involved as well."

"How do we know?"

"There was contact made with someone on Drall. Draq is sending Dani to look into it."

Ti looks at the couple. "What I am about to say must not leave this room. We have discovered that Dooku may have been behind the original order of the clones. That he used Jedi Master Sifo Dyas' authorization to place the request with the Kaminoans."

Elle can feel Drop looking at her. She returns the look, can see the signs of anger growing in his body.

"So let me get this straight," he says quietly. "The Republic Enemy Number One is responsible for my birth and the births of millions of my brothers who were bred to serve that same Republic."

"Yes, Drop. I am afraid so."

"What is the Republic going to do about it?" he asks evenly.

"There isn't much we can do, Drop," Ti says. "If it was to get out, we don't know how the public would react. They could turn on the clones, as well as the Republic."

"What of the thousands of my brothers who have already died? My litany has already grown so long."

He stops. He stands deliberately. Elle rises with him. "No, dear. I have to be alone for a few minutes. Stay here and find out more about our..."

He stops. "Tell me who I have to kill." He turns and stalks out.

Elle makes to follow him, despite his words. Ti stands and places her hands on the younger Jedi's shoulders. "No, Elle. Give him time. There is more," the Master says.

"This information was given after its decryption to a retired Jedi healer. Garda Showim is probably our most renowned expert in Jedi genetics. He was able to decipher the scientific data to find that after several attempts, a clone was created from yours and Drop's material. A female, with the advanced aging, at least up to a point."

Ti pulls the Chalactan into an embrace. "We think that the girl is still alive, simply because of the fact that the data shows that the midichlorian count is still much lower than Force-sensitive. Healer Showim feels that they may be watching to see if Force-sensitivity develops."

"Where is she?" Elle manages to choke out.

Ti's brow furrows. "We don't know. We have traced the lab to one of the lower depths of Kamino. Captain Pal is watching the area, but he can't get any closer. I was waiting for you and Drop to get here before I moved."

"Then what are we waiting for, Master?"

"Wait a moment, Elle. I am fairly certain that the girl is not here. We have indications from the data that they took her away. Also," she says, hands closing on Elle's, "I need to know that you are detached enough to help me. Otherwise, I will find some other Jedi to help."

The door opens. Drop walks in. He walks over to Elle and pulls her into an embrace. "This was your violation, Elle. I will support you and I will keep my head clear for you."

She shakes her head violently. "No, Drop, it was yours as well. You material was used without permission, as well."

"Mine apparently wasn't my own to give," he says dryly.

Her eyes flash. "Never fucking say that, Drop. Never say that again. You only belong to yourself." She looks him square in his amber eyes. "You do belong to me, my thick-headed Null, but I do think that is by your choice." He smirks at that. "Never say this again that you are property, except of my heart."

She sees his eyes soften as he pulls her in tighter. After a moment, Elle feels another pair of strong arms encircle them both. "You are both of my heart," Ti says. "As much as Dani, as much as Tal and his padawan." Her eyes track downward in sadness. "As much as Ahsoka," she whispers.

They stand like that for several moments, lost in their thoughts.

Until they hear a slight 'ahem,' from the other couch. "As much as I am enjoying the group foreplay, we might want to get our asses in gear, if we want to go help Pal and move to solve this little mystery."

The three of them roll their eyes as one. "You worry about your own teensy little ass, useless." We'll move when we move," Drop says, his voice full of menace. "Plus, what's this 'we' shit? You're next to worthless in a fight."

"Just because they stack shit as high as you, doesn't mean that smaller packages can't fight, Drip."

"Drop."

"Whatever. I've fought here before, especially in the depths. As Dani and Master Ti will attest; I wound up saving the day."

Drop looks at Ti. "Well, he did acquit himself well, Drop." A gleam lights her violet eyes. "From a certain point of view."

Elle sees her face grow serious again. She looks at the pair in her arms. "Take a couple of hours. Phygus and I will head down there and watch with him. I'll send Phygus up to get you." She gives them a hooded look. "Make the most of those hours."

"General,"  Drop starts.

"Yes, _ad?"_

Elle watches fondly as his eyes widen at the Mando'a. _Child._

"Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"It is my honor, Sergeant-Major."

Elle kisses Ti's cheek. "Tell Dani, if you are calling her that it'll be good to see her."

"I will."

Drop and Elle release her and walk out. She smiles as they stop before the door and look at each. Drop gently lays her hand at her side and separates from her. They turn to the door and exit. The picture of a clone trooper and his Jedi.

She smirks as she sees Phygus watching them. He turns to Ti. "How come I don't get a couple of hours to 'make the most of?" he asks.

"Wouldn't take that long for you, Phygus."

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Spare me from the smartassed Jedi of this line, Master." he says.

His smile fades. "What will become of that child, Master? What will the Jedi do?"

Her expression is grim as she considers the collection of beings that make up the Jedi Council. "I don't know, Phygus. I really don't." She looks at him fiercely. "I know that I am not going to let anything happen to them."

Baldrick smiles he walks over to her and takes her hand in his. "I know that you won't, Master." She embraces him. 

As he rests in her arms, he thinks of other traits of Ti's line besides the smartass.

Love.

For each other and all who they claim.

XXXXX

Drop follows Elle into her quarters. As soon as the door is closed and locked, he takes her into his arms. Their lips meet.

Elle smiles and pulls apart from him after a long moment. She removes her robes as he removes his garrison blacks. They climb into the bed. Drop encircles her in his thick arms. Their arousal is palpable, but both know that things have to be said.

"How do you feel, my trooper?" Elle asks softly.

She can feel his lips against the back of her head. His broad hand rests on her hip and leg, making little circular movements with this fingers.

She smiles. Since they had become lovers, he had been fascinated with the smoothness of her skin.

He is quiet for what seems like hours. She is afraid that she asked the wrong thing.

"I don't know, _jetti'ka._ I really don't. First, there is the fact that my whole existence may be a lie. Then I find out that we may have a near-grown child to call our own." He smiles crookedly. "Didn't even know I could uncork one with you."

She silences his laughter with her lips, her tongue exploring his mouth. When they both need air, she rests her head back against him.

"I don't question your existence, Drop," she says. "I feel your arms around me. I feel your warmth against me." Her eyes looks at him with something depthless. "I feel you when you are inside of me, when we are one. You are here and I am yours."

"Sweetie, I just don't know the future," he says, his voice tense. "Who's to say that when the war is over, whoever wins, they just won't dispose of the lot of us? Just drop us all in Kamino's ocean?"

Elle turns in his arms and looks him in the eye. She can see the pain in his eyes at the thought of his brothers. "There are many people, Jedi and Senators, who are decent people. Who will fight and die before that happens. That powerful huntress we just left is one of them. That child in a man's body, Taliesin Croft," he smirks at that description, "is another. For all of his faults, a lack of honor and commitment isn't one of them."

"Careful, sweetie. You may have me getting all wet and dewy-eyed over him."

She snorts. "Don't even go there. You ask me so many questions about how he was, you are fast leading me to believe that you wouldn't mind him crawling in between us."

Drop falls silent as he reddens. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Elle finally releases him from the gaff. She bursts out laughing from the thunderous expression on his face. "Couldn't resist it, my trooper. The look on your face was so worth it."

He looks sheepishly at their middles. "Yeah, well, don't ever say it again," he says in a small voice.

"Why not? Might be fun," she says with a devilish expression. She laughs at his thoughtful expression. His eyes narrow at her; then crinkle as he joins in.

She grows serious. "Drop, I trust both of us to make the right decision. I only hope that we will find the girl alive so that we can do right by her - whatever that is."

She smiles wistfully. "That being said, I think you would make a wonderful father, Drop." Her eyes grow distant. _Not that I am an expert in having a father. My first Master, while a good man, wasn't exactly warm and paternal._

She sees his wide-eyed expression. She turns her body against his. Her lips touch his shoulder and track down to his chest. Her right hand moves slowly to his middle grasping him. Her left hand takes hold of his shoulder and pulls him on top of her. She moves both hands to his middle, guiding him to her core.

She gives a gentle cry of surprise as he flips her beneath him.

Her back arches as he enters her; thrusting with his customary gentleness. Her arms encircle him, her palms splayed across the muscles of his back.

The light builds as they put aside all thoughts of the war and darkness, of his brothers and their place in the universe.

A faceless little girl intrudes into both of their thoughts as their hearts race and they fall from the precipice.


	3. 2. Bloodless trees dissolve in smoke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery deepens on the smallest of the Five Brothers.

**Drall**  
**Empire Day minus twenty**

A watcher gazes over the stone structure. She is not a trained huntress but two people that she loves have lived that life. She has picked up many traits from them, through observation, or their empathic resonance.

Other smartasses in her life would snark that you can't pick up traits from what she does with them.

She would snark back that she would keep on trying.

Dani Faygan, finally promoted to Inspector and Ranger in the Corellian Security Service, after spending almost a year undercover on the pirate ship of a mercurial, but ultimately honorable Pantoran Outer Rim pirate, shifts her ass from one side to the next on the bench as she watches the object of her week-long surveillance. _Of course, I didn't seem to absorb or learn any techniques for keeping my ass or feet from falling asleep._

She snorts as she thinks of the Pantoran pirate captain. _Honorable, but somewhat batshit crazy,_ she thinks to herself. She feels the twinge in her side as she shifts and the healing knife wound pulls against her light top.

For about the fiftieth time since starting her assignment, she thanks whatever pantheon of deities that she can that the assignment is on a temperate planet like Drall, where her clothing is light and there is not more fabric resting on the cut.

As she drops her hand from the cut to her side, it brushes against the shape just under the waistband of her low slung trousers. A cool shape that reminds her of the huntress in her life.

Her eyes soften as she gently pulls the top of her trousers down to look at the object.

A beautiful chain that fits around her waist perfectly. A chain that, on her world signifies that her heart is bonded to another. A golden rope that if worn with the revealing attire of her birth-world, would be there for all to see. Her smile grows as she thought of the huntress placing the chain around her waist, the locket hanging from her middle. A locket made with a small tooth embedded in a flattened teardrop of amber, to protect her skin. The tooth of the apex predator on the huntress' world, the _akul_ beast. Amber from one of the spirit-trees of her birthworld of Zeltros. A particular shade of gold with red and jade highlights.

Her eyes tear as she thinks of the gift. Shaak Ti had smiled at her protestation. "But I didn't get you anything, love. I didn't know if you wanted to exchange tokens."

Ti had placed her fingers on Dani's lips. "Hush, love. I didn't expect anything. I just heard of the amber and kind of put it with one of my teeth. We are in each other's hearts, but I wanted to see this around your waist." She smiles a predator's smile. "I hope it will be comfortable near your......"

She breaks off as her lips are quieted by a soft assault from her heart bond. After they break apart, Dani looks down again. "I want to get you something, my heart," she says.

"You already have, love," Ti responds. "It was a matched set of amber." She eases her top up. An identical teardrop shape, with no tooth, hangs from a similar chain around her waist.

The Jedi Master's eyes had filled as Dani had bent down and touched the amber at her waist with her lips, as well as the two identical red marks in the white fields above her eyes.

Dani shakes her head as she sees movement near the house that she is watching. She focuses on the here and now. She replaces the top of her trousers, but touches the chain before she does.

She looks over at the house. A red-furred Drall is unlocking the door to the right half of the duplex.

The one with the address matching Draq's information. She moves closer to the apartment, her head on a swivel all the while. As she approaches the building, with its cave-like exterior architecture, she can hear muffled curses in a mixture of Drall and Basic. Something triggers a distant memory about the voice.

A distant memory of when she had first met a serene huntress and her impetuous, but complex human Padawan. A meeting that resulted in her first look and touch of cool red skin, as she had applied bacta patches to two lightsaber wounds to the huntress' side.

Shaak Ti had not shown any recognition of the pain; a pain that Dani would experience first hand in a few short days. She had only looked with worry in the direction that the same impetuous Padawan had pursued their dark attacker.

Dani had also been rewarded with seeing the relief and love on Ti's face when Taliesin Croft had run up to her, after dismounting a dented aircar.

A dented aircar driven by a Drall. A Drall that possessed a similar strong, musical voice, although the voice had been quietly expressing sympathy and sadness at the destruction and death he was witnessing.

She makes a decision. She walks up to the open door and knocks on the frame. "Come in," the deep, musical voice says. Dani smiles as she sees a diminutive figure walk out from the living space of the duplex.

A duplex strewn with trash and detritus. The aggravated expression on his face is matched by his put-upon tone.

An expression that softens when he sees Dani. "Hello, my dear," he says. A careful smile flows over his furry features. "What causes such a vision to grace the door of my house on such a absolutely dismal day?"

She smiles. "Just working, sir." She makes a decision and pulls out her credential case. "Security."

"That was fast. I only called a few minutes ago."

Dani's expression remains neutral. "Really? What did you call for?"

"To assist with an eviction. I have the paperwork to evict this deadbeat and her illegal roommates." He squints up at her. "I thought I knew all of the Security officers from this Division. I don't recognize you, my dear. Although," he pauses. "You do look vaguely familiar."

"I'm not assigned here, Mr...?"

He reaches up and grasps her hand in his tiny one. "Lodhara, Deputy..?

"Actually, it's Inspector. Inspector Faygan."

His furry eyebrows rise. "An Inspector to handle a simple eviction? I'm impressed."

She shakes her head. "What can you tell me about the people who gave you the trouble?"

"Other than the fact that she stiffed me for two month's rent, left this place covered with trash, and on top of that had an unauthorized tenant living here?" His expression changes to one of mild outrage. "On top of that, her tenant was a child. The lease said 'adults only."

Dani waits patiently. Lodhara comes around to her question. "She showed up about five months ago. She dropped the first and last in cash. She seemed respectable. Said she was some sort of scientist. Pretty soon it went all down-cave. Complaints from neighbors. General filthiness. Then I find out about the kid. A human kid." His eyes look distant. "I have nothing against kids, but my other tenants are elderly. They've been with me for awhile; kinda like their peace and quiet, so I obliged them with the 'no-younglings' policy on this lease."

"Apparently the tenant liked to yell at herself a lot. Or the kid. Finally had enough when she wouldn't respond. She was never here when I tried to contact her. My other tenants were afraid of her. She seemed stressed and angry, as if she was watching for something. They told me she hadn't been here in several days or so. That's when I started proceedings with the magistrate to remove her. Hadn't paid any more rent, but you know how hard it is to get people to pay."

He looks down. "I didn't want to do it, with the kid and all. But my other tenants were suffering."

Dani smiles. "I know. But what can you tell me about the kid?"

"I never saw the kid. My tenants said that it was a young girl. Human. About five as near as they could tell. Very quiet from what they said." He looks pensive. "I said that the Drall was yelling at the kid. I don't think she was, based on what the Kragatas said. They said that the one redeeming quality that she had when she wasn't haranguing them in the yard was how much she seemed to love and care for that little girl."

Dani takes this in. "Can you describe them, Mr. Lodhara?"

"Please, my dear. Call me Lod," he says with a smile. He closes his eyes. "The Drall was a member of the Gray collective. Older, but not as old as me. She seems to be the usual Drall scientist. Long on theory, but short on practical knowledge. Probably can't lace her own boots."

Dani looks at Lod with new respect. _Okay. This is something he has thought about._ "What about the girl?"

"As I said, about five years old. Dark brown hair. Kind of sharp-featured, but softened." He looks at her intently. "Kind of an odd eye color. Two different colors. One kind of gold. The other, well what do you humans call it? Fleet blue?"

"Navy blue?"

He nods. "That's it. The right one."

Dani takes this in. She thinks of a beautiful Chalactan; her uncharacteristic dark blue eyes that gaze at her in her mind's eye. Of the very large clonetrooper whose golden-amber eyes look at his Jedi with pure adoration.

The Drall takes in her pained expression. He touches her hand. "Are you all right, Inspector?"

She shakes her head, as if to clear it. "I'm fine, Lod, thank you. Do you mind if I look around?"

"Not at all, my dear. There is a good caf shop around the corner. I am going to go sit down and figure out what I am going to do with this duplex. Just lock up and come join me, when you get through."

She smiles. "I'd love to, Lod."

"See you in a bit, young lady."

XXXXX

Dani pulls on her gloves as she enters the first room of the dwelling. Like most Drall homes, at least one room recalls a cave, in homage to the belief that they were initially cave-dwellers. This one actually serves as the 'family' room. She sighs and closes her eyes. She tries to recall her long-dormant lessons from the CorSec Academy. Lessons in search and evidence collection.

Lesson she hasn't had to use in her unofficial, now-official capacity as a intelligence officer. _At least Lod didn't ask her what Division she was with. Rangers aren't even supposed to be operating within the confines of the Five Brothers._ She picks up her first bit of trash. A sticky substance of indeterminate origin clings to her glove.

Two hours later, Dani's mood has worsened as she cracks her back after bending over and sifting through other people's trash. She is fairly certain that her 'date', a certain middle-aged Drall has abandoned the caf shop around the corner, rather than wait for her.

 _Oh, well,_ she thinks, _might've picked up something interesting about our subjects._ She is about to strip her gloves off and toss them in the nearest trash as she spies a tiny bit of flimsi under the corner of a nightstand in the bedroom.

She lowers herself to her knees and gingerly picks the scrap up. She records it with her comm after opening it up. Her full lips quirk up into a smile.

A receipt for passage for two - one adult and one child.

To Coruscant, with a layover of two days on Corellia. The receipt is dated three days ago with a departure date of two days.

 _Shit. They have already left the Elder Brother._ She sends the facsimile of the receipt to Phygus and Draq'.

She shoves it in her pocket and starts down the stairs of the dwelling. She stops as two cloaked figures walk into view at the bottom of the stairs.

 _This can't be good,_ she thinks. She pulls the blaster from the back of her belt as both of them pull twin blasters and open fire.

She crabs sideways to cover and opens up, sending a barrage of blaster bolts down the stairs. Both assholes dive for cover.

She runs to the front of the house. She opens fire at the window as she runs towards it. The window shatters, just before her body hurtles through the glass.

She ignores the bite of the glass shards as she finds herself flying to the ground. She strikes the ground, landing awkwardly. Her left ankle gives as she turns to cover her rear. The two large figures open fire on her from the doorway.

Dani gasps as an unassailable pain lances from her right hip. She looks down in surprise as a large smoking hole appears at the juncture of her hip and leg.

 _Dammit. I've just nearly healed on that side_ , inexplicably flows through her mind as she crumples. She feels the back of her head strike the pavement.

She is suddenly aware of large hands going through her pockets and running over her body. _At least you could wait until I am awake and can enjoy it,_ she thinks with a smirk. She stares up at the face of her assailant. His hood has fallen off from his large head, revealing his face.

A smaller version of her friend Elle's lover.

A GAR clonetrooper.

The rifling of her pockets ceases. The smaller version of Drop stands up and pulls his blaster. She stares at the suddenly huge muzzle. She doesn't close her eyes; but concentrates on the face of her huntress.

Dani is suddenly conscious of a huge weight on her chest. The clone's open eyes are centimeters from hers. She struggles for a better position. The young Zeltron officer hears multiple discharges from weapons. She looks over to locate her weapon.

Inspector Dani Faygan finds it in the hands of a tiny, red-furred Drall. Along with a companion blaster of similar, but smaller manufacture in his other hand.

A light thought comes to her mind as she loses the struggle for consciousness. _Probably shouldn't have stood him up for coffee._


	4. 3. And shadows hover where shrieks are heard.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ti takes action.

**Kamino**  
**Tipoca City**  
**Empire Day minus twenty**

The large Null-ARC known as Drop moves silently into position in a lower corridor of his homeworld.

 _Homeworld_ , he snorts. _More like the horror-show you want to get away from._

Drop thinks of the fading memories of his childhood in this place. Of regimented punishments and flash-training.

Of being alienated even from his own Null-brothers. For reasons that he cannot fathom.

Of rejection by that revered training Sergeant, Kal Skirata. His lip curls into a sneer.

A sneer that fades into a smile as he thinks of what he has. The respect and love of Jedi and former Jedi the galaxy over. Brothers who he could lead and be lead by with pride.

Mostly, his pride.

He checks the corridor. It is still clear. The others have not arrived.

His face grows serious as he thinks of two of those Jedi and former Jedi. The man who had made others see the worth of a rejected Null. A man who he would've gladly spaced when he first met him, but who had proven him wrong. A man that he had watched grow from great potential into an incredible leader. A man who recognized his brothers' potential and their existence as sentient beings.

A man that he would follow to hell and back. A softer smile flows over his hard features, as he thinks of that brother's Master. A woman whose serene countenance belied a passion for life. For her former Padawans. For he and his brothers that she had set to training. Training to live, rather than die for the glory of the Republic.

The smile transforms into a sarcastic smirk as he thinks of his 'former' Jedi. A tiny little thing when he had first met her. A tiny little thing with terrifying mind powers and skill with a lightsaber. A skill for learning as well, although tempered with an inborn streak of stubbornness and sarcastic wit that kept her erstwhile hunt-brother on his toes. As well as long-suffering GAR Sergeants and from what he had heard, Captains.

Drop could see why those _barves_ from the 501st worshipped the ground that she walked on.

His face darkens at the injustice that the Jedi and the Republic had shown her. An injustice that had resulted in her departure from the only life she had known.

 _Landed on her feet, though_ , he thinks, as he remembers his last meeting with her in the Coruscant undercity. A meeting in which she had demonstrated that she lived the Jedi ideals of service and protection.

He thinks of what Elle had told him; something that had been passed along to her from Dani. That his Jedi General, Taliesin Croft and Ahsoka had found each other on a pirate ship in the Outer Rim. That their relationship had taken a deeper turn. Just before they had lost each other again as the young woman had left to continue to find her own path.

Something that was sure to be devastating to both. _Goddamned stubborn, clueless, self-sacrificing idiots. Does it take blunt force trauma to make them see what is in front of them?_

 _No, it doesn't,_ he thinks as his other Jedi walks up to him, along with Ti's adjutant Captain Pal. Another one forged in battle and who had grown into his part when it was thrust upon him. Thrust upon him by a chance and a tall, serene elder huntress.

He raises his bucket as Elle comes close to him. They look deeply at one another. Pal turns his back on them as Elle reaches up to his cheek.

He marvels at her touch. He marvels at the idea that something as bright and beautiful as she could find the light in someone as dark and bitter as he.

She shakes her head. She mouths the words to him. The words that everybody says that Jedi are not supposed to speak.

The moment passes after a deep kiss. They turn to the object of their scrutiny.

XXXXX

Master Ti and Phygus approach the small group of familiar warriors in a small corridor near a large compartment in the lower levels. She shakes her head as she hears voices raised. _Not exactly shy, retiring types when it comes to their opinion,_ she thinks fondly.

"Come on, hard-head," says a relaxed, lazy accented voice, "think. We don't need to go rushin' in there where Alphas fear to tread. Let's watch a while longer."

A sharper accented voice, from another continent on the previous speaker's homeworld, one filled with sarcasm and snark, retorts, "You come on, Shy'sa, you pretentious git. We need to move. It ain't your little swimmers that might have been taken."

"Pretentious, huh, Null? Big word for you."

"Everybody knows that you added that apostrophe in the middle of your name, just to keep up with that old bastard Bel Iblis. He added it to his first name to give him more credit with the Elder Family he married into."

As they walk up to the group, Phygus and Shaak turn to each other and execute a perfectly synchronized eyeroll. They look at Elle Jaquindo and Fenn Rau. Both of them have looks of long-suffering disdain for the two.

Captain Pal is actually doing his job and watching the compartment.

Shy'sa looks amused at Drop's assertions. "So how do you know so much about my family and the Bel Iblis?"

"You try ignoring Taliesin Croft when he is going on and on about Corellian and Mandalorian history when you're trapped on a ship with him."

"Don't look at me. That's the Corellian side," Shy'sa says dryly.

"Children, if we could actually focus..." Ti says.

Both members of the debate society turn an attentive eye to her. She smiles and nods. Shy'sa starts to speak. "When you asked us to keep our eyes and ears open, Master, you weren't forthcomin' about what. But some of my Wild _Jai'gs_ coming down here lookin' for a place to get frisky in private saw a good deal of activity in this area. After a time of not tellin' me about it, because they thought that I might chastise them for their activities," at this he looks with slitted eyes at his lieutenant, Rau, "they let me know what they had seen over several weeks."

"Mind you, they only started comin' down here in the last four months or so. They apparently found other places for their wrestlin' matches."

Ti smirks at his phrasing. "So what did they see, Fenn?" she asks.

He grows thoughtful. "They saw a good number of Mandos in full _beskar'gam_ comin' down here. They thought it odd, since the armor was different from their own. They didn't recognize it, but they didn't think anything of it; 'cause the longnecks have used other, less reputable cadres for their trainin' needs."

Ti nods, her lips pursed. "The hawks all said that the armor was mismatched and had no recognizable pattern," Rau adds.

Ti, Elle, and Baldrick look at one another. "We've seen this before. Dani and I fought people in Mando armor. One of them wound up being a clone trooper that had bombed a training room with cadets in it. At the beginning of the war."

Shy'sa nods. "Yep, little man. We thought of that. Descriptions from the boys and girls were that they were bigger than the clones that umm," he looks up at the overheads, "...might have found themselves down here with my heartbreakers."

Ti files that away. She looks at Drop and then back to the Fenns. "Were they as big as Drop?"

Shy'sa looks at Rau. Rau colors. "No. Reports are," he pointedly ignores Shy'sa who is grinning openly, "that they were not that big."

Drop looks at Ti. "Alphas. They seem to be the bane of my existence. Everywhere I go."

"I heard about the Alpha assigned to the commandos. Taliesin couldn't figure out how to mesh him with the rest of the unit."

"That's because he was an asshole. An asshole who did have us fooled. Me included. I thought that he had found his place.

Rau interrupts. "Beg your pardon, General. But there is something else. One of the other of our cadre reported a young human female here, as well as one of those furry little creatures from near Corellia."

Ti's expression darkens. "Phygus, stay here. The rest of you, tactical entry. By the numbers. Elle, back Pal and Drop up; I will go with the Fenns."

Phygus can feel the energy build around him through his rusty Force-sense. He sees Drop, Elle, and Pal maneuver towards the entrance of the compartment. Ti and the two Mandalorians turn and head down another corridor to come out on the other side.

The little slicer closes his eyes and sends a silent request to the Force for these fighters.

XXXXX

Pal and Drop sidle up to the door. They stand on either side of the door. Elle ignites her saber and stands further away.

She can see both of the troopers with their heads cocked; they were communicating through the internal com system.

"You're going first, right?" Pal asks. "I thought you orificers always led from the front." Drop replies. "Sir."

Pal smiles behind his visor as he hears the smile in the Null's voice. "Why would I go first when I have your oversized ass to take cover behind."

Drop snorts, but smiles himself behind his _buy'ce._ Various times working together had built an easy cameraderie. Pal is one of the few clone officers that Drop has any respect for; though most of it bleeds through from Ti's respect.

A respect born of fighting together on a desert world. A respect born of watching the clone, admittedly a poor excuse for a soldier, with an annoying propensity for motion sickness on lartie runs, grow instantly into a leader and a soldier's soldier.

Elle herself could attest to Pal's skill, as he had shamed her into living and protecting her troops rather than running into certain death. At a time when she would've gladly died after the loss of her friends and her arm.

The three of them nod at each other. Elle smiles at both of them. Their bodies tense as Pal reaches to the door switch with the override chip.

XXXXX

Ti moves to the front of the corridor adjacent to the other side of the door. She looks at Phygus. He nods to her. She can feel the laughter in her three children at the door. She smiles gently as she looks at them. For a brief instant, she thinks of the ones that are absent. Her former Padawan, looking for answers as to where his path will take him. His own Padawan, striving to make a mark in the galaxy; who has already made a mark on his Master.

The smile turns bittersweet as she thinks of her Padawan's new lover. His hunt-sister. The young woman whose treatment by the Jedi had nearly severed their own bond.

A bond that felt stronger, now, even though they had not spoken directly since then, except through the mental training bond.

She clears her head and brings herself to the here and now. She sees her Captain move the override key to the lock.

As he does, a very tiny burble in the Force strikes her. Her eyes widen. "Stop!"

She reaches out with the Force and yanks.

She sees Baldrick's hands go up and yank as well.

The world explodes in front of them.

Both Ti and the Fenns are knocked back by the shock wave. Ti's montrals ring with the result of he explosion.

She sees the Fenns rush to the front, as blaster fire erupts from down another corridor.

An intense pain starts from her right montral down her right side. All the way to her right foot. She struggles to remain standing. She clenches her teeth as she pulls her saber into her hand. She sees the Fenns open fire at the unknown assailants.

She rushes forward with them and starts to deflect blaster bolts. She sees that Elle is crouched by Drop, who doesn't move. Her heart sinks as she looks Pal lying next to him.

She stares at the shard of door metal that protrudes from his chest.

Her mind's eye flashes to a day long ago on the sands of Geonosis. Of a young clone patiently and earnestly explaining what a 'lartie' was. Of a clone enduring his fellows' insults as he turned green on their lartie. Of his gratitude at her healing touch and concern.

Of his loyalty to her as he grew into an officer on that day.

She shakes her head. She looks at Elle. _We have to leave him, child. We need to neutralize the threat. I can still feel your trooper in the Force._

After a moment, Elle wipes her eyes and stands. They move towards the Fenn's position. Elle sees Ti dragging her foot. She brings herself without a word to Ti's left side and takes her arm.

Ti smiles her gratitude to the young woman. Elle shifts her saber to her mechanical arm.

They join the fight.

XXXXX

Drop's consciousness returns slowly, as if through a veil. He pulls his head up and realizes that his bucket is off. He touches his hand to his head and feels wetness at the back of it. His head feels like it has been crushed under a stamping tool in a droid foundry.

Or like he had just been in an argument with Taliesin Croft.

He realizes his nose and ears are bleeding as well. His vision is fuzzy in his left eye.

He looks over at Pal. His good eye blurs with emotion. _Rest well, Vod. I will Remember you. You gave Elle her self-respect back and hence to me. I won't forget that._

Drop tries to pull himself up to a sitting position. After a century of effort, he succeeds. Only to slump over as his stomach empties its contents.

He looks up. Standing there in front of him in the corridor that Ti's team had vacated is a _Vod._ From his size and the imagined dumb look on his face under his bucket, Drop surmises that he is an Alpha plank.

Drop is about to speak when the Alpha raises his blaster.

And points it at Drop's head. Drop moves to find his own weapon, but moves as if he is dipped in lubricant oil.

Drop's vision grays and blacks toward the center. The last thing he sees is Elle's face looking at him with that look that her normally grave face reserves for him as she tries to get to him.

The last thing that he hears is blasterfire before everything goes dark.


	5. 4. Burning beasts evaporate like breath

**Kamino**  
**Tipoca City**  
**Empire Day minus eighteen**

Noises intrude into his consciousness as the man swims towards the light. He smiles as he detects at least one beloved voice in the cacophony of sound.

He opens his eyes. He examines every centimeter of the beloved face--the companion to the voice. He focuses on the bright jewel on her forehead. Her shining royal blue eyes are the next thing that comes into sharp focus. Followed by the broad smile growing over her features.

He is able to focus on her skin--much like his own as she brings her soft lips to his.

His senses are lost as their lips meld.

As they break apart for breath, he realizes that his vision is clear and the pain is a dull ache.

Just in time for him to roll over and empty his stomach on the floor.

Drop looks sheepishly at Elle as she moves back into his view. She wipes his mouth with a damp cloth. "I'm sorry, love..." he starts.

She silences him with the cloth. "You missed me, Drop. You've held my head a few times, when I have puked on your boots. You never complained."

He smiles, remembering. "Yeah, sweetie. We have to always remember not to let you drink that Togruta wine that Ti pushes on us." Her laugh is musical as she puts her head on his chest.

His eyes darken as he remembers. "Pal. Did he..?"

He feels her face fall against his chest. "He didn't make it, Drop. He took a piece of metal to the chest."

Drop remembers as she says it. Of a thanks to the officer for Elle and him.

"Anybody else?" he asks, dreading the answer.

"No. Everybody else is okay. Ti is...hurt, but she is dealing with it." _As she always has with her 'curse.'_ A curse that is a result of her unique gifts as a huntress.

Drop can tell that she is holding something back, but doesn't ask.

A dry voice comes from the opposite side of the room. "I'm fine, too, Drip," the voice says.

Drop smiles, not bothering to correct. "Figured you were, little man. Pure devilment always survives."

"You know it, big guy."

"I felt you and Ti pulling us out of there. I appreciate it, Phygus," he says. His smile broadens. "You can fight with me, anytime."

"Maybe you can carry me on your shoulders."

Drop's smile turns sad, as he remembers a tiny Jedi fighting by his side. A young girl now on her own, without the Jedi Order that had turned its back on her. A young woman who still has her tremendous guts and skill.

Skill nurtured by Drop's general, and refined by another young Jedi.

"Where is the General?"

Elle's face grows somber. "She is on her way to Corellia. Dani was injured trying to find out more info about our....."

He finishes for her. "Our daughter. How is she going to Corellia? What about the neutrality?

"I get the idea that she doesn't give a damn about the neutrality. She didn't exactly ask the Council's permission."

"How bad?" he asks, dreading the answer. She smiles. "Like my favorite Null, Dani has a hard head. But she may be out of commission for a week or two. Just like you are supposed to be."

"Nope. Where are my pants?"

She smirks. "For my enjoyment, I get to keep them from you."

"Well, that may not stop me if I am needed. We don't exactly have modesty bred into us."

"Seriously, Ti needs us to stay here for now. She will be checking out leads there. She needs us to stay on top of this explosives case. Especially now that the Fenns and their cadre are leaving."

"What the hell? Why?" Drop asks.

"Something is blowing up on Mandalore. Apparently a Sith might be vulnerable there."

"Guess I can't fault them for that. Shitty timing, though."

Elle nods. "There is something else, Drop. About you."

_Great. What else?_

"A while back, a clone killed their Jedi. He was brought back here, along with an ARC trooper. The clone, Tup, died. The Kaminoans tried to cover it up; but Ti and the ARC were able to determine that it might have had to do with an obedience chip bred into them."

"What about the ARC? Who was it?"

"Fives. From the 501st. He was killed, supposedly threatening the Chancellor."

"I knew Fives. He was one of Rex's hard chargers. Good troop. How does this affect me?"

"Before she left, Ti left instructions with her personal meddroid to remove your chip. It could be risky, but she felt like you might agree." She looks down. "She knows that it was your decision. She agonized over it, feeling how she does about her men having the choice to make their own decisions."

Drop shakes his head violently. "I trust your Master implicitly. Probably because she agonized over it. There are about four Jedi that I would trust with that decision. Well, three Jedi and one former."

"Well, it was a moot point. They didn't find any evidence of a chip in your head."

All three of the people in the room are silent. A light appears behind Drop's amber eyes. "I think that I may be the reason that the normals have that chip."

"Why, Drop?" Phygus asks.

"Nulls were considered obstinate and ungovernable." He ignores the snickers from his listeners. "We nearly were all euthanized because of it. Skirata convinced the longnecks that he could control the Nulls."

He looks down. "All except me. Skirata said even he couldn't take me. Getting thrown in with the Alphas and ARCs was my last chance." He takes a deep breath. "If Croft had transferred me, rather than seeing something in me, or being able to work with me, I would've been dead within fifteen minutes on a goddamned longneck surgical table when they cut me apart to figure me out."

They are all once again silent, as they think of the obstinance of a particular Jedi.

Phygus breaks the silence. "Drop, Dani was attacked by several individuals. She has been unconscious and in bacta since it happened, but the witness that came to her aid said they were clones. He was shown a holo taken of you and Bozo on the _Bucket._ He said they were in between you and Bozo's size."

Drop snarls. "More fucking Alphas. Goddamned in-betweeners." His eyes send a question. "What about the ones who attacked us? The ones dressed as Mandos."

"Shy'sa got their bodies, but there was nothing remarkable about them. They weren't on any Republic manifest." Phygus smirks. "Of course, the longnecks are stalling and not being forthcoming."

"Of course, they aren't," Drop says.

Drop catches Elle jerking her head at the little slicer. Phygus smiles and refrains from any comment. He nods at Drop and exits the room.

"So you missed me that much, huh, _jett'ika_? His big hand moves to her hip and pulls her to him.

She rolls her eyes, but gives him a quick kiss. He feels his hand move back to the bed. "You and Croft are two of a kind. You could both be on your deathbed and you would be thinking about that. For your information, idiot, I sent Phygus out of the room so that you could get some more sleep."

He starts to protest. She gives him another quick kiss to silence him. "Sleep, love. If you're good, and your vitals are good, you might get a ride a little later."

She feels him relax and his eyes close. She smiles and moves next to him on the bed. Her eyes are open and troubled as he sleeps.

 **Corellia**  
**Empire Day minus fifteen days**

Ti looks at the figure floating in the bacta tank. Her heart bond is resting, for her fifth day in the healing fluid. She looks down at the chain in her hands. A chain that she had placed around the young officer's waist only days ago. She touches the matching chain around her own waist, under her top. As she does, the pain on her right side flares. She leans against the rail near the bacta tank. She closes her eyes and wills the pain to flow into the Force.

She touches the tank, her palm flat against the plexiglass. She reaches out. _Be strong, my love. Rest._

She feels two presences enter the room. She turns. Draq' Bel Iblis stands in the door, alongside an unknown Drall.

The Dragon of Corellia walks over to the Jedi Master. Without a word, he pulls her into his arms. As he releases her, his eyes fall on the chain in her hands. His eyebrow raises, but he says nothing.

He is, after all, the father of a half-Zeltron daughter. He knows the significance of the jewelry. He kisses Ti on the forehead and nods.

"She should be coming out of it soon. She will probably need some bed-rest. She is tough."

Ti smiles gently. "She comes from tough stock." The smile turns to the smirk that bedevils his nephew. "Obviously from her mother's side."

His grin matches hers. "Obviously."

Her eyes track downward in sadness. "I don't know if I can stay too long, Draq'. Something dark is going on back at Kamino. I left Drop injured and another trooper who was dear to me dead."

"You do what you have to do. But Dani will want to see you when she comes out of the bacta." He touches the chain. "Her heart-bond should be there."

He turns to the Drall. "Which brings me to an introduction. "Master Ti, this is Lodhara. Chief Superintendent, CorSec, retired. He is my man on Drall, since the current Chief Superintendent on Drall is next to useless."

She takes the small being's hand. The older Drall smiles up at her. "So you are the one who claimed this young lady's heart. Too bad. I thought that I might have a chance."

Ti laughs at his words.

"Lod saved Dani's life. Of course, he was trying to find out how she could stand up a man of his obvious charm for caf when he stumbled on to the attack," Draq' says.

"We are monitoring spaceports discreetly, but we think that the Drall and the young girl are already off of Corellia. I am having to be discreet because I am getting pressure from my own government about assisting so openly. It's why I have called Lod back from his comfortable retirement."

Ti nods. "I think that I owe you for a second time, Chief Lodhara. You managed to avoid killing my Padawan with an aircar just before the war."

"I remember him. He was a good young man then. I hope that he is well?"

"He is. He is a powerful knight. If Jedi felt pride, I would," she says dryly.

Bel Iblis curses, as he looks up from his comm. Ti raises her eyebrow markings. "Someone broke in and stole the bodies of Dani's attackers. I was hoping that we could take them to the Republic."

"That seems to be a pattern in the last few days," Ti says.

"Ti. You watch over Dani. Maybe you can rest whatever the hell it is that is causing the pain in your eyes." Ti starts to protest. Draq' stares her down. She blinks first.

"Lod will lead the investigation. I will communicate directly with you; since Tal seems to be out of pocket."

She nods. "He is being sent to Boz Pity. They have reinstated him as a General. Since it is a big campaign, he will lead the air assaults." Her eyes grow distant. "At least until he can talk to Yoda. Dani is convinced he is trying to leave the Order."

Draq' nods. Ti looks at him. "Draq', I beg of you. If he does, please give him time to figure out what path he should take."

He nods somberly. "You have my word, Shaak. He will make his own way."

The gratitude in her eyes nearly overwhelms Draq.' They both turn to the bacta tank, as they watch a young woman begin to come awake.

A young woman precious to both.

 **Hyperspace**  
**Approach to Boz Pity**  
**Empire Day minus fifteen days**

Taliesin Croft looks out at the chaos of hyperspace. His body goes through the motions of monitoring the Eta 2 Actis interceptor's controls, but his mind is with a young Togruta huntress. As it has been for the last month and a half since she had left the _Opportunity_ on Garel.

Since she had left his arms after one night of passion and touching each other's light.

A newfound passion that had taken them both by surprise.

A passion that had helped lead him to a decision.

The decision to, like her, leave the only life he had known, since he was five years old.

 _No,_ he thinks. _A life that had left him in the last year._

He had asked to come to Coruscant to meet with Yoda. That had been the half-month ago. He had cooled his heels on a Republic Medical and Surgical Unit, making sure that clones were fit for duty after their medical treatment.

Waiting for a reply.

It had come in the form of orders carried by the bland astromech currently occupying the droid socket.

Reinstatement as a General in the Grand Army of the Republic. Assignment to the Boz Pity campaign. Taking over the stalling air campaign.

_Makes so much sense. A General of Commandos and unconventional warfare in command of hundreds of snubfighters and bombers._

Someone who hasn't been in a Jedi fighter in the entire war.

A bland beep comes over the intercom. AG-I6, the repurposed agridroid serving as his astromech informs him that he had another five hours in hyperspace. Just as he had at the five hours and one quarter mark.

Of all the smartassed, aggressive Jedi astromechs that they could've sent him, he gets saddled with a plodding farmer-droid.

He thinks of the refusal to comment on his request to meet with the Grand Master of the Order. _Can a Jedi just up and send a letter of resignation?_

His mind wanders from bureaucracy to the soft skin of Ahsoka Tano. Of their laughter and the look in her eyes when she suddenly realized what he could be.

When he realized what she could be.

He shakes his head as he tries to push the huntress out of his mind. His eyes focus on the azure fuel consumption monitor. An indicator that suddenly takes on the guise of her bright blue eyes looking at him with abandon as he feels her nails scrape down his back in his mind.

He sighs. "Take over, Aggie. Going to catch up on sleep."

A bland response signifies the affirmative.

He rests his head back and closes his eyes. _Might as well concentrate on one thing. I'll need my rest to deal with Quinlan Vos._

Bright laughter and the sharp teeth of a predator's smile greets him as he loses the battle with consciousness.


	6. 5. Captured flies are the gas lanterns.

**Boz Pity**  
**Republic Stardestroyer _Venator_**  
**Empire Day minus ten**

Taliesin Croft's Eta interceptor rolls to a stop. He is out of the cockpit before it stops. He shoves his headset at the clone plane captain and strides towards the elevators to the bridge. Flight crew and deckhands see his thunderous expression and get out of his way. A young Wookiee jumps out of his own ship and runs up beside him.

 _"Master, slow down,"_ the Padawan says. _"Master Vos is our commanding officer. Don't charge in like a dumbass. It won't help if you get relieved."_

"Might help a lot, Gung," the Corellian says. Gungi puts his hand on Croft's chest and puts his growing Wookiee strength behind the hand. Croft stops, a new thunderous expression on his face.

"What the hell are you doing, Padawan?" Croft asks, his voice dropping ten degrees in the elevator.

_"Exactly what Ahsoka told me to do. Standing up to you, when I think that you have your head up your ass."_

Croft's eyes close. He nods. Gungi plunges forward. _"If you get relieved, who will look out for these troopers? I am just a lowly Padawan. Captain Sloane will help, but they need a General on their side."_

Gungi can see the pain competing with the resolve on his Master's face. In the last year and a half, the young apprentice had become an expert in his Master's expressions--even the ones that he was not supposed to.

"You were right to listen to Ahsoka, my young Padawan. She is a helluva lot smarter than me." He smiles and ruffles Gungi's fur.

 _"You know it, Master,"_ the young Wookiee hoots. _"Although, it's hard to tell with some of the things that I saw on_ Opportunity _."_ He bares his fangs. _"Tell me master, is it a standard Togruta greeting to put your hands on her butt like I saw you do in the galley? When Captain Rhayme had her arms around both of you?"_

Croft's skin flushes in the human equivalent of a Wookiee's fur ruffling. "Thought you said you didn't see anything," he says softly.

Gungi can feel a new expression flow to his features. One that would be more familar on the young woman that is the subject of their discussion.  _"Never said that, Master. You just inferred it. I didn't deny it."_

He grows serious. _"I'm sure that she is fine. She is so strong."_

"I know, Gung," Croft says. "I am sure of it." Gungi puts his hand on Croft's shoulder. Croft smiles. "I will calm down before I talk to Vos, young one."

He bows to Gungi. "Thank you, my Padawan."

 _"It is my honor, my Master,"_ Gungi replies, as he bows.

XXXXX

Croft walks onto the bridge of the destroyer. He heads directly to where Vos is talking to the Admiral, Valens and Jana Sloane. She sees his expression, which is less thunderous than when he left his fighter, but still is hard. She shoots one of of her own to him.

He nods, gently. Since he had landed his fighter on that first day, he had been engaged in almost continuous flight operations. There had been little time for more than a quick kiss of greeting.

He had come to her quarters, since he hadn't had time to claim any for his own. Both of them were so exhausted they had not used the bed for anything other than what it had been intended for. Most of the time in the last five days, they had not even been in the bed at the same time.

He walks up to the Kiffar Master. The only other active Shadow in the Jedi looks at him. "Master Vos, a word in private, if I may?"

The Master's dark eyes above the yellow tattoo narrow. Croft recognizes the tired, hollowed out eyes. Croft had heard of his experiences on Christophsis. Experiences that had resulted in Vos' redemption from the Dark Side and the death of Asajj Ventress. A former Sith acolyte who Croft had encountered in his mission with the pirates.

The death of whom had devastated Lassa Rhayme, the occasional lover and fierce friend of Ventress.

Vos nods. "Alright, Croft. Follow me."

Sloane's expression is unreadable as Croft follows Vos towards the unoccupied flag bridge.

"Make it quick, General. I am trying to win a war here."

Croft takes a breath. "Do you think that we will actually win if we don't have any troops left?" he says.

Vos' dark eyes flash. "Oh, so this is what this is about. Coddling the clones. I should have known."

Croft keeps his features calm. "Yes. I just came back from a mission, that if I hadn't changed the parameters, would've been a bloodbath for my pilots, and quite possibly one for the troops on the ground that they were covering."

"Maybe I should be talking to you about changing my orders," Vos growls. "About insubordination. Which, if I remember correctly, you've had a problem with your entire life."

_Nope. Not the happy-go-lucky Jedi of the past. Of course, he has always been reckless with his clones' lives. It's what drove a wedge between he and Aayla._

"We still accomplished your objectives. And then some," Croft says.

"This time," Vos retorts. "I expect my orders to be followed to the letter. Or I'll make sure that you are expelled. Like you should've been a long time ago."

Croft again doesn't rise. "Where the hell is this coming from, Quin? You never had a problem with me as a Shadow."

"Lot has changed since then, Croft. We are in a war, in case you haven't noticed. Troops die. Better that they die than any Jedi or citizen of the Republic."

Every trooper's face that has ever died under his command flashes in his mind. He centers himself. He sees a young Togruta checking and caring for his trooper's feet on a cursed world in a cursed campaign.

He looks at Vos squarely. "I've seen the results of your spendthrift ways, Vos. The clones may have been bred for war, but they are not slaves. They are human." He takes a step closer to the larger Jedi Master. His fists clench.

"I had the honor of fighting with Asajj Ventress last year. I saw her falling back to the light. From what I have heard, she died so that you could live and live in the light again."

Vos' own fists clench. "You have no right to bring her up, you bastard."

"I have every right, Quin. I fought her and I fought with her. She and a crew of pirates saved a young girl from a horrifying fate. They covered my ass, too."

He looks down. "Right this moment, I am not sure that the trade-off was all that good."

Vos looks out of the view port. Croft powers ahead. "Have you ever felt your troops in the Force? Have you ever taken the time?"

"Ventress died so that you could live in the light. These men aren't perfect. They have their flaws, just like you and I. But they are firmly in the light."

"The hard thing is, Master, is that they would gladly die to protect you. You take advantage of that. Your campaigns only rival that of Pong Krell's for their casualties." he finishes.

"Were you sent here to spy on me, Tal?" Vos whispers. "To kill me if I Fell again?"

Croft grins. "If I was, I didn't get the memo. No. I am not exactly in favor with the Council, myself."

For the first time, Croft sees a glimpse of the old Vos. The man who had taught him so much about his craft as a Shadow. The man that his former Padawan worshipped the ground that he walked on; until his disregard for the troops that she guarded as fiercely as her own life. "At least you weren't Yoda's pet project for a time."

"No. Worse. I was Windu's."

Vos laughs and nods. He sobers. "I will take what you have said under advisement, General Croft."

Croft stares at him for a moment. _Maybe so, Quin. But I can goddamn-guarantee that you will not spend another trooper's life needlessly,_ he thinks as he turns and leaves.

 **Mandalore**  
**Sundari Outland Zone**  
**Empire Day minus ten**

The huntress watches warily as two Death Watch commandos look through the crowd in the small out of-the-way tapcaf. She lifts her bottle of _netra'gel_ to hide her distinctive features under the cowl of her cloak.The other hand is under the garment on the borrowed blaster. Since she had left her own DC-17s in a locker in an out-of-the-way spaceport in the Mid-Rim, she was using a loaner Westar from the woman sitting next to her.

Bo-Katan Kryze smirks at her as she watches the young huntress. She thinks back to a slap on the ass she had administered on a snowy world a lifetime ago. When this young woman had been posing as the 'betrothed' of a weak specimen of maledom. When she had actually thought about taking her to her bed and showing her a few things that Lux Bonteri couldn't.

She shakes her head as Ahsoka Tano's narrowed blue eyes fall on her. She relaxes and nods. Her former compatriots had left. She returns to her musing on the calm, beautiful features next to her. _Of course, the offer of the bed still stood, even though I watched her decapitate four of those other compatriots with one swing on that wintry world._ There just hadn't been enough time for it here, as they tried to figure out a way to free Mandalore from the grip of that Sith asshole.

Of course, she would have to get past whoever the hell it was that was on the ex-Jedi's mind. When she wasn't trying to survive and plotting world domination.

Her hand reaches out and touches the young Togruta's. Ahsoka smiles and shakes her head gently, but she doesn't remove the hand.

Bo-Katan feels the hand tense as Ahsoka looks up. She realizes that her hand is empty as the young woman leaps up and throws herself into the arms of a cloaked man.

A cloaked man with close-cropped blonde hair and a hawk-face with amber eyes. A face of millions of others.

Millions of her brothers. Her head rests against the man's chest. His arms surround her. He gently kisses her forehead. A whisper comes from his mouth. A whisper that Bo-Katan can just make out.

"Sure have grown, kid," he says. An answering whisper comes from the young woman. "Rexter."

In spite of herself, Bo-Katan smiles.

 **Boz Pity**  
**_Venator_ **

Croft walks into the Captain's quarters of the _Venator._ He glances around. The quarters were bigger, but no less spartan than the quarters on the tiny _Bucket._ A few tiny souvenirs; most of which appear to be made by maturing childish hands over the years. A holo of a younger version of Jana; a younger, more serious version. Her younger sister, Rae. Jana's pride and joy.

Croft's heart jumps at a holo on the bulkhead. A holo of a ship's crew, a collection of clones, the remnants of his commandos and the original 332nd, as well as the command units for two other battalions, all arrayed in front of a beaten-up _Consular_ class cruiser adapted as a light frigate.

Four Jedi stand next to Sloane in the picture. Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker stand next to Marshal-Commander Cody and Captain Rex. Croft's armored figure stands next to Sloane and a very large Null. A Null who had become his brother.

Standing between the two groups was a tiny Togruta, dressed in her culture's skimpy hunting attire. The recorder had caught the Padawan glancing at something he had said; a laugh forming on her features. Skywalker and Kenobi look at her with amusement. All of the faces are tired. The faces of his troops bear the ravages of an ailment that all off-worlders developed after a time on Z'ambique.

The world that had gained him Knighthood. The world that had been paid for with high cost and then abandoned by the Senate as more important resources were targeted.

The world in which he had watched his hunt-sister grow and mature in battle. Hints that he had only glimpsed in the training rooms of the Clawmouse clan.

He shakes his head at the memories. _She's long gone. Finding her own path. She doesn't have time for you, dumbass._

"Hard charging looking group of heartbreakers, aren't they?" comes a warm soprano at his shoulder. "Particularly that one," Captain Sloane continues, nodding at the holo.

He realizes his hand is on Ahsoka's image. He looks down and removes it. Sloane walks up to him and places her arms around his middle. She rests her chin on his shoulder and contemplates the image.

"Lot of folks gone away," she says softly. He can tell that her eyes are on a heavyset gunner's mate. He contemplates telling her that Adis is safe, or as safe as an Outer Rim pirate can be.

He decides against it. She would be legally and more importantly to her, honor-bound to report him as 'Run,' rather than 'Discharged - Dead,' as she had originally logged him.

"Yeah," he says, "speaking of others. I read in a bulletin that they are re-flagging the 332nd. A detachment from another unit for a specific mission in the Outer Rim." She smiles brightly. "That is good. You and Ti made that battalion into something special. Something to be proud of."

She places her hand over his heart. "I am sure that she is fine, Tal. I only met her briefly, but she struck me as someone who could survive anything."

"Yeah, Jana. I know."

Jana Sloane is no Jedi, but she can sense his confusion and uncertainty. Something she had never sensed from him before, even when his decision could result in the deaths of everyone.

She closes her eyes and comes to a decision. "Tell you what, General. I only have an hour before I have to be on the bridge for your Master's latest scheme to defeat the Separatist menace on Boz Pity. We got fueled and and our water reserves have been totally recharged. I relaxed hot water restrictions for the next four hours. Figured we could use it; actually take Coruscant showers rather than Navy showers or worse yet, use the damned sonics."

He turns to her, a sly grin already playing on her dark features. "It is still necessary to conserve water, however. You feel like helping me?"

His own grin flows across his face. "Anything for the Republic Navy, Captain. What might this entail?"

Her face falls slightly. "Don't know if I have a lot of energy for anything too strenuous," she whispers, "but I would love to be held by you and touched by you. Would love to catch up." Her face grows serious. "Maybe you can tell me what is bothering you, Taliesin, while you are washing my hair."

He looks into her dark eyes; sees only concern in them. He nods, with a smirk. "I don't know how well I can do, Captain. My Master didn't exactly teach me a lot about grooming hair, seeing how she didn't have any."

"This is, of course, besides the fact that you go around most of the time looking like a Wookiee..."

"Careful, Sloaner. I know secret places on you."

Her own smirk grows. "Maybe I'll find some energy reserves and you can explore those places."

XXXXX

Croft marvels at the feel of her hair in his hands as the hot water plays over them both. He pulls the nozzle over her and rinses the curls. As he finishes, she leans back against him, content to be held. His mouth plays gently over her the soft skin of her shoulder.

His confusion remains. He recognizes what Sloane means to him. Contrary to popular belief among his age-group--and other Masters--he didn't engage in casual affairs just for gratification. The gratification was important, but he had to have a connection with the person. Sloane and he had saved each other on the _Bucket_ , seizing the light where they could.

But this, _whatever,_ with Ahsoka, felt different. He didn't know if it had to do with how long that they had known each other, what they had learned about being hunt-sister and brother, or just the fact that her growth, both physical and emotional had opened his eyes.

There had never been any inkling that this would happen. He knew that there had been hero-worship and maybe even crushes on him, but he had discouraged it. _Well, maybe not the hero-worship._

Never in her snarky, sarcastic, dealings with him had he gotten that from Ahsoka.

He shakes his head. He feels Sloane's eyes open. "So what the hell is bothering you, Croft? Who is she? Or he?"

He tries to play it off. "What do you mean?" he asks nonchalantly. As nonchalantly as he can with a length of naked naval captain in his arms against his front.

"Don't play innocent with me, Tal. Something has been bothering you other than Quinlan Vos and his propensity for getting everyone with a birth-number killed. It's Ahsoka, isn't it? Has something happened to her?"

He is silent. Finally he speaks. "I ran across her a month or so ago. She was surviving. She had grown so much. He puts his head against her shoulder. His hands run over the Aurabesh tattoo on her ribcage, absently, as he gathers his thoughts. "Something changed. In both of us. We realized that we were growing closer."

"We had a night before she decided to leave and find her path elsewhere."

She turns in his arms and puts her hand against his face. He meets her gaze. "I'm sorry, Jana. I don't want to hurt you."

"You think I would let you, Tal?" She kisses him softly. "You and I have grabbed the warmth for the last three years of the war. You mean the universe to me. But never did I think that this would lead to anything more than comfort. Not just sex, although after a few lessons you admittedly got better at that." She squeaks as he finds one of those particular places on her ass. When her giggling subsides, she continues. "You kept the darkness and death at bay. I like to think I did the same for you." He nods emphatically. "You'll always have that place for me. But I realize that is what it was."

She smiles. "When you speak of Ahsoka, I hear something different in your voice. I don't know if the two of you are suddenly going to be raising babies or anything, but it is definitely something different."

"May not have anything. She may decide she wants nothing more to do with the Jedi. Even one as out of favor as me." He smiles. "May be a moot point. I had pretty much decided to leave the Jedi even before she found me."

Jana looks at him sadly. "I know. I knew it when Ahsoka was nearly killed by the Republic." She takes his face in hers. "You need to do it. What the hell are you doing here?"

"They haven't replied to my request for an audience."

Her anger suddenly flashes. "What the fuck does that matter? You're Taliesin Croft. The man who took three Stardestroyers a thousand parsecs to save that young woman. Take your ass to the Council and demand that they speak to you."

He smiles at her fierce anger. "Guess that might work. It worked so well the last time."

His smile fades. "There is one thing, Jana, that is holding me back. My brothers. I am truly scared for what will happen to them after the war."

Sloane smiles. _Jedi do not love._ "I know. Yularen and I, as well as some of the Captains and Fleet Commanders who don't have their heads up their asses and are not named Tarkin, are working on something, along with some Senators. I am supposed to meet with Master Ti in a month or so to present it. You can't use that as an excuse."

"What about you, Sloane? What is in your future?"

"Well, I just learned that I was selected for Flag Rank. Should be promotable at the beginning of the month."

His eyes light up with pure unadulterated joy. "Jana, that's incredible. Rear-Admiral at twenty-nine? It's unprecedented."

"I know. Why I might refuse it."

"What?" he exclaims incredulously. "I have to accept shore duty for a while," she says. "No squadron slots. Plus, I don't know if I want to be a peacetime admiral. I am tired of war. I would love to explore Wild Space or some of the unknown regions. I need to re-connect with my baby sister a bit, as well."

The longing in her voice cuts through him. A devilish grin marks her beautiful features. "Plus, it won't be the same. I won't have a studly ex-Jedi with me as arm-candy at all those HQ social functions."

Their laughter rises together. Until tears brighten both sets of eyes. "Find your huntress, babe," she whispers. "If it is meant to be, it will be. Besides," she says. "Maybe I'll look up Dani and see if she wants some variety."

Their lips meld as the water finally turns cold.

XXXXX

They have just finished dressing. Jana looks at him. "What is next for you, General?" she asks. "Alert-5. If you can keep things from blowing up too much, I might can catch a nap in the cockpit on the flight deck for the next two hours."

"I'll see what I can do," she replies, kissing him.

They both start as the speaker comes on. A loud gong erupts from the speaker. Amidst the ringing, the voice of the XO cuts in. _"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands man your battle stations. Set Condition 1-SQ throughout the ship."_

They both look at each other in growing horror. That particular Condition indicates that authority has been granted to prepare to unleash every particle weapon on the ship on a particular target in a devastating blow.

"Has Vos gone off the deep end? Does he think he can just slag the Boz on his own?" Croft asks.

"No. The Admiral has to have a properly authenticated flash message from Galactic Command Authority to even set this Condition."

She starts to leave the cabin at a dead run. He follows close behind her.

He incongruously thinks of what the hell Galactic Command Authority even means. A military euphemism for one man.

The Supreme Chancellor of the Republic Senate. Sheev Palpatine.

_So much for my nap._


	7. 6. And each flickers, still attempting to escape.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins. A disgraced Jedi makes a choice.

**Corellia**  
**Empire Day minus ten**

Shaak Ti runs her fingers through the sleeping woman's hair. Dani Faygan stirs as Ti reaches down and kisses her.

"Hey, love," the young Zeltron says sleepily. "Sorry I am sleeping so damned much."

"Shh, little girl. You may not have as hard a head as some that I know, but you can give them a run for their money."

Dani laughs gently. She had spent five days in bacta, repairing the blaster wound on her hip, as well as the head injury. Her ankle was actually the injury that is taking longer to heal.

She and her heart-bond had been able to spend another two days together after she had finally woken up.

Ti sighs as her comm chimes. Dani smiles at her expression. The feared and respected Jedi Master sits up straight as she sees the ident. She reaches for the sheet to cover herself. Dani's smile grows to musical laughter.

Ti throws the pillow at the young officer. "Yes, Dragon," she says as innocently as she can.

The expression on the Procurator's face is priceless. He shakes his head. "Lod has reported in. There is no sign of the Drall scientist or the young girl on any of the Five Brothers."

Ti's closes her eyes. "Then they must have made it to Coruscant."

"That is what I am thinking, as well, Shaak. You'll have to take it from here. If she was well, I wouldn't hesitate to send Dani." A smirk that would have done a huntress proud flows easily onto his face. "Of course, one might say that if she is well enough to do what she has been doing for the last two days, she is well enough to do her job."

Dani is about to speak, but Ti pushes her down. She is about to retort, when she sees the feared Dragon of Corellia looking down. "Tell her that she is going nowhere until she is fully healed."

He and Ti share a look. "Very well, Dragon. I have some people who can look into it. They will be on their way within an hour. Plus, there is someone on Coruscant that may be able to help, as well."

"Very well, Shaak. If we can do something from this end, let me know." He grows angry. "Find that girl. She needs to be protected."

"We will, Draq'. I am returning to Kamino." She feels Dani's intake of breath. "May the Force be with you, Draq' Bel Iblis."

"And with you, Shaak Ti." Unspoken are the words. _My daughter's heart._

As she breaks the connection, she lies back next to Dani. "Wish you didn't have to go, my heart," the young woman says.

Ti reaches over and kisses her. "I know, love. But I want closure for Elle and Drop. I owe it to them."

"Do you think it is the best thing to send them to Coruscant?" Dani asks. Ti pauses before she answers. "I don't really have a choice. Now that Pal is dead, and with you injured, they are all that I have left. Tal is fighting his own battles; I can't bring him in without arousing more suspicion. I don't know who I can trust."

"I am sending them the long way around. I want them to have as much surprise on their side as possible. I don't know who else that I can trust with this."

"Shaak, I can...." Ti silences her with her own lips. "No, love. I will not risk you when you are not at full strength." She sees the black rolling into Dani's eyes; this time in anger. "What about you, Shaak? You can barely lift your right leg. You will be alone on Kamino. Please let me go with you..."

Ti pulls her into an tight embrace. "I have lived with this for years. I will have to live with it a while longer. I need to see this through."

Dani presses her forehead against Ti's breasts. Ti takes a deep breath. "If I can see this through, I will consider having the surgery on my montral."

Surgery that would relieve her of the pain, but at great cost. The cost of her abilities as a powerful huntress. A part of who she is.

"Ti..."

"I know. But I have something more to live for. I will still be a Jedi. But if I am not careful, the pain will flare up at the wrong time and I can get someone killed. Including myself."

She rolls on top of the young woman. "Right now, I want to fall into your light, Daaineran."

The room is silent except for their cries and whispers.

Ti's comm chimes unheeded as the light builds.

**Boz Pity Orbit**  
**Stardestroyer _Venator_**  
**Empire Day minus nine**

Gungi recognizes the urgency as he joins his master and Captain Sloane on the bridge. Admiral Valens, the urbane Chandrilan fleet commander is briefing them. Vos is noticeably absent.

".....apparently all major Seppie heavy units are engaged in the attack on Coruscant. The Jedi on-planet and the garrisons there are engaged in heavy fighting on the surface. The Home Fleet has the attacking force bottled up, but they have grabbed Republic One."

Gungi's eyes widen. _Republic One. The callsign for the Chancellor. The Commander-in-Chief of Republic forces._

"We are taking ten of our stardestroyers to Coruscant to attack their force's flanks. We will leave two of the destroyers here with all of the assault ships. Master Vos will continue his attack. General Croft."

Gungi's master walks up calmly before the assembled officers. He catches Sloane's eye as he speaks. "I am stripping all of our bombers from the ships. That should give us about a hundred Y-Wings and another fifty ARC-170s. We will combat egress as soon as we revert and immediately head to the surface. Commander Kolan of _Resurgent_ , who I have not had the pleasure of meeting, will lead a covering force of fighters for us, then will circle back and cover the fleet."

One of the _Acclamator_ captains speaks up. "We are going to have our asses hanging out here over Boz Pity. How will General Vos' troops be covered?"

Croft looks at him. He purses his lips before he answers. "I know. You will have to make do with the gunships until a relief squadron can get here from the Open Circle Fleet. They will be here in three standard days. Everything is being called into Coruscant."

Sloane speaks up. "At top speed, it will take us about two days in hyperspace to get there. We can only hope that the Home Fleet and reinforcements can keep them bottled up in system."

Valens nods his head. "Generals Skywalker and Kenobi are heading back to Coruscant from operations on Mandalore. They should get there around the same time as we do." He looks at Croft. "They are tasked with rescuing the Chancellor. We may be shifted to cover their operation."

Croft speaks up. "About the 1-SQ. Why have we been readied for strategic weapons deployment?"

Valens clinches his teeth. "We have our orders. If we have to, we will deploy particle weapons against the Sep fleet to rescue the Chancellor."

"On whose authority?" Croft presses. "As I understand it, only the Chancellor can issue this. Pretty sure that authority hasn't been ceded to Amedda."

"Your concerns are noted, General. You can take it up with the Jedi Council."

"No. Actually I won't. When we get to Coruscant, I'll be the ranking officer present. It will be my call. Not yours."

There is silence on the bridge. Valens and Croft stare at one another. Finally, Sloane speaks. "Admiral, General Croft is right. It will be his call." She smiles her most disarming smile, but one backed with steel. "You should be grateful not to have to be the one who might have to dump weapons of mass destruction into the atmo of the largest population center in the Republic."

Valens shifts his gaze to Sloane. She stares back. Croft steps to her side. "Admiral, I trust that Captain Sloane will see no sanction for pointing out what you know to be right," he says in a whisper that only the three can hear.

After a moment, he shakes his head. "No. Your pet Captain will not be touched, Croft. But I only hope that a peacekeeper has the balls to do what is necessary." He smirks. "I guess Captain Sloane is an expert on that."

Gungi starts towards the three. Sloane waves him off, quickly. "Admiral Valens. If you would like to put that insinuation on the record, I would be glad to call for a court-martial, so that you can. But if you make an accusation of impropriety, you had better have incontrovertible evidence."

Croft grins at Valens' poleaxed expression. The Admiral sputters, but says nothing else.

No one else had heard the exchange. Sloane turns to the assembled officers. "Jump in one hour. Let's do it. Dismissed."

Valens stares at his flag captain, but says nothing. Sloane turns and leaves. Croft doesn't.

"Admiral Valens, do you wish to be relieved? If so, you can stay in command of the assault ships for Master Vos."

The Chandrilan officer shakes his head. "No, General. My apologies. You can count on me."

"Good."

Croft turns and walks away. Gungi stays and stares balefully at the Admiral for a few moments before he follows.

**Hyperspace**  
**On approach to Coruscant**  
**Empire Day minus seven**

Elle Jaquindo stares out at the blue chaos of hyperspace. Drop stares at her, his eyes fixed on her troubled expression. He reaches down and takes her smaller hand off of the throttle. She turns and smiles at him. "So, _jetti'ka_ , who is this whiz-healer that we are supposed to meet on Coruscant?"

"Well, he is not exactly a Jedi anymore, love. Garda Showim is one of the most controversial Jedi healers around. He is brilliant, but has a reputation for instability."

"How so?"

She takes a deep breath. "His specialty is Jedi and Force-sensitive genetics. He developed a couple of very controversial drugs that got him sanctioned by the Council."

"What kind of drugs?" Drop asks.

Elle doesn't answer immediately. "He believed that Jedi who failed the Trials and were sent to the AgriCorps, should be free of the Order. He developed a Force-suppressant drug so powerful that it would kill Force-sensitivity with an overdose."

"That doesn't sound too terrible, giving them a choice." Elle looks at him. "He was using it on subjects in small doses to test. Without their knowledge."

Drop looks at her, his anger rising. "This is the kind of asshole we are dealing with?"

"Easy, love. He is the best we have. The Council were preparing to expel him. He used an overdose of the drug on himself. It worked. He no longer has any Force-ability. The ironic thing is, he was sent to the AgriCorps."

"Yoda allowed him to be brought in once they got the info on Replica. He is the one who was able to decipher the science."

Drop nods, his temper cooling. A tiny bit. "You said he developed two controversial drugs. You only mentioned one."

"The other wipes short-term memory. Including Force-memory. Anywhere from a day to about a month, depending on dosage," she says.

"I suppose he tested those, as well on unwilling subjects," the Null says, his voice dripping with contempt.

"No, love. He tested it on himself. It worked, but he couldn't convince the Council that it had any use. It was ordered destroyed."

A beep sounds from the navicomputer. "We're coming up on Coruscant, love," Elle says. "Sorry we had to take this long route, Drop. I know three days was a long time, but Ti wanted us to take a roundabout way."

"It's okay. Can't think of anyone I would rather spend three days with." He runs his hand over her arm. "How will we know how to find him?"

"He will be broadcasting a signal to us." She pulls back on the hyperspace lever.

The stars slow. The view port explodes with light as energy beams criss-cross in front of them. Republic stardestroyers exchange fire with large Separatist ships. Fighters jink back and forth; as explosions of ships of all sizes rock their tiny shuttle.

Elle immediately starts to pitch the shuttle up and down to avoid energy bolts.

"Holy shit," Drop exclaims. "We're in the middle of a fucking war zone!"

Elle doesn't answer as she swings the control yoke to avoid a laser strike. She jinks left and right. She dives towards the surface.

Another blinking light, this time on the comm console catches Drop's attention. "I think your asshole is signaling us."

"Well, answer him, dear. A bit busy now," she says as she barely avoids a droid tri-fighter.

Drop rolls his eyes. He punches a button. "What, asshole?" he says without preamble.

The speaker is silent for a moment. "Hello?" a tentative voice says. "Knight Jaquindo?"

"She's busy. What do you want?"

The voice grows less tentative, as a mid-Rim accent laughs. "Ah, you must be the male donor. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Could use some help, though. Got some droids coming after me."

Elle smirks as Drop looks at the speaker, his eyes flashing. "Male donor? Did you think I jerked off in a cup or something?"

"Don't really care. Could you get down here and take care of these commando droids? They seem intent on taking me."

"We'll get right on that. Everybody has their droid problems, right now."

"Drop--." says Elle, her tone unmistakeable. "Oh, alright," Drop sighs. "Locked on your signal."

"Glad to hear it, son. I am down on Level 1313. These seem to be the only attackers on this Level."

Elle and Drop look at one another. _No coincidence, there._

**Stardestroyer _Venator_**  
**Hyperspace**  
**Empire Day minus seven**

Taliesin Croft stands near the old Y-Wing as an even older former agri-droid is lowered into the socket. He sighs as he feels the stormy Force-presence stalking up to him.

"Before you say anything, my young Padawan, I have made my decision. You will be my gunner."

_"But..."_

"No 'buts,' Gung. You're a helluva Eta and Aethersprite pilot. But these tanks are something different." He smiles. "Plus, I can't think of who I would rather have watching my back in that turret."

He smiles at the Wookiee's crestfallen expression. The Wookiee finally nods and turns.

As he passes the Captain, she reaches over and ruffles his fur. She smiles at him and brings him into a hug.

She releases him and walks over to Croft. "Careful, Captain. That asshole Admiral of yours will think you're fraternizing with him."

"Screw him. I will hug whatever Jedi I want."

Croft smiles sadly. "I think that your promotion may be in jeopardy, if he makes an issue of it, Jana."

She touches him on his arm. "Hey, General. Don't take that on your shoulders. I am a ship-driver. It is what I was born to do. Might even die doing it. Won't change a goddamned thing that I have ever done."

She pulls him down to her. She touches his lips with hers. As they break away, she puts her forehead against his chest. She looks up at him. "Tal, I don't know if I believe in this shit, but I'll say it. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Captain Sloane." He smiles, sadly. "Keep the faith, Sloaner," he adds in a whisper. They break apart, ignoring the chaos around them, as it ignores them. He realizes that she has placed her hat on over her curls. She brings her fingertips to the brim.

He returns her salute. He sees that Gungi is in the turret. He turns and climbs into the bomber.

Jana Sloane watches him as the canopy lowers. She raises her hand. He places his on the plexiglass.

**Coruscant**  
**Level 1313**

Garda Showim, Naboo and former Jedi knight-healer listens at the door as commando droids probe around the exterior of the small apartment. He holds the borrowed blaster tightly. He purses his lips as he considers his options.

He knows that if he chooses poorly, he will either fall into the hands of the Separatists, or be liable for more sanctions from those idiots on the Jedi Council.

He thinks of the report that Master Shaak Ti, one of the bright lights of the Council, had given him after convincing Yoda to let him assist.

Of course, she had let it be known that if he does anything to harm her former Padawan and the Null, she would not be as serene as she usually was.

He had seen her spar against her intransigent Padawan, a skilled duelist in his own right. He could only come close to beating her, especially when that passion underneath the serene exterior was unleashed.

He winces as he thinks of the horror of the young Jedi and the trooper. In spite of his record, Showim had been dedicated to preserving life.

Of giving beings the opportunity for a better life than one that might be chosen for them.

He would give this young girl and her unwitting parents, all of the opportunities that he could.

Garda Showim, Jedi healer, makes his choice. He lays down the blaster and opens a pouch on his belt. He pulls out an inhaler. A nondescript device.

He puts it to his lips and activates it, inhaling the contents deeply into his lungs.

He discards the inhaler and waits.

His breathing evens out. He feels the effects of the contents of the inhaler. He begins to feel a hum within his mind.

His mind touches the ancient energy field that had once been his birthright.

He can feel it as the contact grows. Until it fills his mind.

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a cylindrical object and pushes the stud near the top.

A meter long shaft of blue energy unsheathes from the hilt.

The door bursts open.


	8. 7. But to one side, high in the distance, the poisonous moon,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coruscant. All doing their part.

**Coruscant**  
**Empire Day minus seven**

Taliesin Croft watches the countdown on the HUD of his Y-Wing. He can just make out the chaos of hyperspace through the upper hangar bay doors. He turns to Gungi as he hears the servos turning the turret to and fro on its pintles. "Ready, Fuzz?" he ask. An affirmative bark comes from the young Wookiee. The light next to the shield turns green. "All bombers, this is Croft," he says into his pickup. "Let's go."

He shoves the throttles forward and pulls back on the yoke. He reaches the opening of the hangar bay just as the blue destructive twists and turns slow to stars. He looks to his left and sees other heavies jump in and start vomiting snubships. He is immediately buffeted by explosions as he turns towards the planet.

The sight before him would be awe-inspiring if it wasn't so deadly. Stardestroyers and Separatist capital ships are burning and exploding, trailing debris and plasma as they plummet to the city-planet below. Thousands of fighters yaw and pitch as they battle for one more meter of space to call their own. He opens his pickup. "All groups. Ignore everything up here. Head to the surface on the pre-arranged attack vectors." He doesn't wait for replies. He spirals his ship down to the surface.

Towards his own small spot of real estate. A spot overrun with all manner of mechanical death. He takes a deep breath and rattles off commands. "Accelerate to attack velocity. Arm bombs and torpedoes. -170s, lock S-Foils in attack position."

He senses loss in the Force. Tremendous loss as even his newly-arrived clones are hit and die. He can hear Gungi firing the rear cannon. Periodically, Croft hears the youngster crow with triumph. He smiles. "Pour it on, Fuzz."

Taliesin feels the bomber shake as it enters atmosphere. "All craft. Squadron split. Launch when you have targets." His voice softens as he thinks of the men and women following him to death. "May the Force be with you."

The Corellian streaks towards his target. A large grouping of droid landers catches his attention. He lines up his shot; barely glancing at the targeting computer.

Relying on his instincts. The instincts that Ti had always drilled into him to follow. The instincts that she had always praised.

The droid landers disappear in a flurry of explosions. To a ship. As he pulls out of his dive, he twists the ship and fires at three droid fighters coming down on he and his wingman. Gungi shifts the turret forward and adds his weaponry to the fusillade.

The Y-Wing shakes as it flies through the debris of the fighters. The bomber continues to shake as a lone tri-fighter opens up from behind. "Falling asleep, are you, big man?" he snarks at his Padawan.

A sarcastic hoot is his answer. He laughs gently. _You can tell he's mine,_ he thinks. He looks down. _Or that he has spent time around Ahsoka Tano._ He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts and concentrate on the fight.

_You can think about her later, dumbass. Get you and your Padawan home safely._

XXXXX

**Level 1313**

Elle Jaquindo swings her lightsaber as droids rush towards she and Drop. Drop has his DC-15S working furiously, taking off B1 heads as quickly as she is slicing them. "Your asshole's signal is up ahead. That building." he says, pointing at an Old Republic revival style, incongruous among the dingy, more modern architecture.

They sweep to their left. Elle and Drop work in tandem, flawlessly deflecting or sending bolts to their source. The B1s are soon in full retreat.

As they run towards the building, they hear more droid blasters. They stop as they hear a more distinctive sound.

The hum and crash of a lightsaber as it deflects more bolts. They look at one another. A crash from above draws their eyes. Two B1s suddenly become part of an airborne unit.

"I though you said this asshole had no Force mojo, sweetie."

"He didn't," she says, her eyes wide.

She closes her eyes and concentrates. "Yep. I can feel him in the Force. But," she pauses, "it feels weird. Like..."

She shakes her head. "Hang on, love," she says. Drop feels himself flying through the air. He stops at the window and is propelled through.

She hears a crash and cursing. "Stop, asshole! I am on your side. See? No clanking."

Elle leaps through the window, her saber leading. As she lands and sticks, she sees a human standing in the middle of the room, facing Drop down, his shoulder length, stringy gray hair flopping over his slightly demented hazel eyes.

He sees Elle, and smiles. He deactivates his saber and turns to her. "Hello, Padawan Jaquindo. It's good to see you again. Sorry it is under such circumstances."

Elle closes her eyes and counts to five. _Eccentric._

Drop doesn't count. "It's Knight Jaquindo, asshole, and you know it."

"Ahh. Sergeant Drop. Good to see that things remain constant. And simple."

Elle puts her hand on Drop's chest. "We need to get out of here. We have a shuttle. If we are lucky, we can make it to the Temple."

"I have to get my research. Or everything that we have done is for naught. We might not be able to help the subject."

Drop grabs Showim by the collar. "That subject is a human being, asshole. You don't...."

Drop clutches his throat as his teeth clench. He refuses to gasp. He drops one hand from his throat with extreme effort and brings it to his holstered sidearm.

A blue shaft of plasma lays against the former healer's throat. "That Sergeant is very important to me. Let him go."

The Naboo drops his hand. Elle tries to stop the forward movement as Drop's fist connects with Showim's jaw. At the last second, the trooper pulls his punch.

Showim still flies across the room. Elle shakes her head, smiling slightly. She walks over to the healer and extends her hand, lifting him to his feet. "When things are quieter, you and I will have a conversation about you having Force powers when you supposedly took an overdose of your own Force suppressant."

He smiles. "You won't have to worry about it in another hour or so, Knight."

His smile disappears. "As I was saying. We will need to get my research or I won't be able to help the child."

 _A little better,_ Drop thinks. "Get the datacard and let's go."

"Datacard? Faugh! I would never trust information this important on one of those."

He opens a small trunk. He begins to lift leather bound notebooks out.

Large leather notebooks. Many large leather notebooks.

Drop's expression grows thunderous as the healer starts to stuff the notebooks in to a duffel. _Two guesses as to who gets to carry all of that shit. Pretty sure that the stylus-necked geek won't be._

XXXXX

The trio heads down the stairs, each of them carrying a heavy duffel bag. They step out into the dim light of Level 1313. Explosions can still be heard from above. They turn in the direction of the shuttle.

They stop. Drop looks at the array of commando droids spread out before them. He lowers his bag to the ground and unslings his carbine. He draws his sidearm as well, one-handing and shifting the larger weapon to his left. Showim and Elle ignite their sabers. She notices that the ex-healer looks at his blade as if he had never seen it before.

**Stardestroyer _Venator_**

Jana Sloane stands by the viewport, watching the explosions of Republic and Separatist ships. She looks down at the deck, as she considers the blood being shed by the Republic. _All to save one man. A man who has drawn so much power to himself._

Jana Sloane is not a political woman. She had sworn an oath to serve the Republic and follow the orders of her superiors. Both appointed and elected.

But so much she had seen in the over three years of war. A army made up of brave men who were little more than slaves in the eyes of most of the Republic's citizens. Her eyes close.

 _Not to mention, a Senate and Chancellor who were willing to judicially slaughter a young woman on the flimsiest of evidence._ The one time that she had met Ahsoka Tano, she had been mightily impressed with the young Jedi. Her uncertain intelligence and skill had struck Jana with its power. Her respect and regard for Taliesin Croft had shown through, as had her growing respect for her brand new master.

The young captain smiles. Her conversation with Croft in the shower had shown that the respect and regard had gone both ways, even before the relationship had turned-- _close._

The ship shakes with explosions. Her thoughts snap away from Croft and Ahsoka. The destroyer pitches downward toward the planet, before the helm answers again and she rights. She remains calm; letting her XO and the first lieutenant handle the damage control.

_Their jobs._

The ship shudders again. She feels the vibration flowing through her feet; building.

The bulkhead. She turns just as the aft bulkhead implodes inward. She is thrown against the forward screen. A part of her mind screams with pain as her eyes close for an instant.

An instant that feels like hours as her world slows down. She forces herself to her feet. Her powerful, disciplined mind allows a scream to sound for a second, as pain lances through her left arm.

The arm hangs useless at her side. A young ensign runs over to her. His eyes are as large as saucers. "Captain--!" he exclaims. She grits her teeth against the pain. "Take a deep breath, Mr. Abaka. Calm yourself and stop braying across my bridge."

The young officer stops as if poleaxed. Jana can see him center himself. "Yes, Captain," he says, almost whispering. "Commander Jank's complements. The Admiral is dead, as are his staff. The flag spaces were hit by a proton torpedo."

Sloane closes her eyes and does some centering of her own. "Very well, Mr. Abaka. How're your command signaling protocols?"

He grins. "Top of my class, Captain.

She matches his grin. "Very well, You are now my flag lieutenant. Signal to squadron and fleet command, 'Admiral KIA. Am taking command of squadron. Will engage heavy units more closely."

The boy nods. He touches a final button on his pad. "Signal executed, Captain."

"Very good. Ahh, XO. Give me the bad news.

The clone officer nods to her. "The Chief Engineer has been taken to medical and surgery. The Propulsion Assistant has taken over. The main reactor went offline for a minute, but she was able to get her back up. We have lost at least three engines. Still full juice on the rest of them. Several hull breaches. Numerous casualties. Speaking of which," Jana says, "let the corpsman look over that arm." He motions someone over.

"There are probably more serious casualties here, Jankey," Sloane says. The face of millions grows firm. "Maybe so, Jana, but none of them are in command of at least a half-dozen surviving capital ships."

She doesn't reply. She winces as the corpsman and accompanying medical assistant droid lift her arm up gently. She continues her gaze at the battle through the viewport.

For about the millionth time since the battle had begun for them, she sends a childhood prayer to anyone who will listen. A prayer for the dead, and one for the living as well.

One in particular. She sees the bearded grin in her mind's eye.

_Live._

XXXXX

Ahsoka Tano feels the comforting weight of her Captain against her back as she dozes. She can see the flames growing closer as this part of Sundari burns. Her battalion has seen hard fighting ever since Anakin had turned them over to her before he rushed off to save the galaxy. _Or at least one man of it,_ she thinks sourly. Sheev Palpatine ranks right up there with Wilhuff _'Thank you for saving my _shebs_ at the Citadel, Padawan. In thanks, if you would please kneel while I put this nice blaster bolt in between your montrals'_ Tarkin as her least favorite sentient in the galaxy.

She closes her eyes. She can feel Rex's restful watchfulness against her. As she closes them, she once again thinks of Taliesin Croft and their changing relationship. Parts of her grow warm as she sees his face above her, as he thrusts gently into her, his eyes shining and his hand warm against her cheek as they build to their finish together.

She feels Rex come awake. She realizes sheepishly that her breathing has quickened as her warmth rises. She shakes her head. "You okay, General?" he asks.

"I'm good, Rex." she says, smiling. She shakes her head again, as she tries to cool the fires. _Doesn't help that Rex feels so warm and solid against my back.... No, Tano, you cannot have those thoughts about your second-in-command._

Her reverie is broken by Rex's dry voice. "Then perhaps you might go off somewhere and take care of whatever the hell it is that has got you hot and bothered and all fidgety out of your mind." She can feel the smirk in his voice. "Or whoever."

She looks sheepish. "Sorry, Rex." "It's okay, kid. It ain't the first time you've been fidgety when you've used me for a pillow. This is just the first time I've called you on it."

She colors. _Of course, I was all 'fidgety' about Barriss, then. Or even Lux. Raging teenaged hormones,_ she thinks from the lofty perch of the newly-adult.

 _Pretty sure I was hot and bothered about Rex, first, though,_ she thinks.

The smirk in his voice grows. "You could probably go over to Bo-katan's tent. The way she has been looking at you, she would solve all your problems." A muffled 'oof' sounds from his mouth, as her elbow strikes him right at the junction between his backplate and another piece of armor.

"Sorry," she says with a giggle, "it slipped."

"Yeah, right."

She settles back against him. "Rex?" she says, softly. "Yeah, Ahsoka?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, General."

As she drifts to sleep, she rejoices in his comforting bulk against her back; the comforting presence of her brothers around them. The brothers of a battalion that wears her marks on their armor. _Her battalion._ Of her Captain's ability to take her mind off the fact that she is alone and in command of a theater of war.

A battalion whose original Generals had made it famous, as well as playing a large part in her formative life.

Ahsoka Tano sleeps easily for one more night as a galaxy burns.


	9. 8. The fat fog-spider, lies in wait, smoldering.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reckoning. A cost for doing their part.

**Coruscant**

Croft drains a third water bottle as he waits for the crews to re-arm and refuel his bomber. Gungi snores slightly behind him, catching a quick nap. This was the fourth trip they had made to the disabled _Acclimator_ staged away from the main attack as a refueling station.

 _Four trips and half of his attacking force down._ He listens idly to the command net. The chatter consists mostly of attack runs and defensive stands. The ground attacks seem to be petering out, now that reinforcements and air support had appeared.

He had already received the command signal that Sloane had taken command of the Boz Pity contingent upon the death of Valens. He had called up the tactical display for her area. He had seen the icons for the remaining ships of the squadron. The icons for heavy damage marking all of them.

He sits up in the cockpit as he hears a familiar voice cut through the chatter in his mind. "This is 501 Sam, requesting priority support for high tier Jedi and intel evac." A voice that is usually either cutting him to pieces with sarcasm, or bolstering him with the same sarcasm, tempered with wisdom and understanding.

As well as a high degree of care.

He taps his comm. "501 Sam, this is Strike Leader. What have you gotten yourself into?"

He can hear the grin in the voice. "Oh, nice of you to join us, General. Care to get your finger out and come help me and my smarter half out?"

"Depends, big guy. You buying?"

"Nope. I'll depend on your zeal for the Republic to warm you," Drop says, his voice growing serious. "Tal, I am sending you coordinates for the undercity. We are surrounded. Broken Saber."

Croft starts. A code that he hadn't heard since Geonosis. A Jedi is about to be captured. Ordinarily, at least earlier in the war, it would have brought everything in the vicinity with a bomb, laser, or rocket attached to help.

It had happened so often in the war that it was harder to muster everything for all of them. Especially since there seems to be a planet-wide invasion going on.

"I'm on my way, brother," Croft says. "Fuzz--shake it off, son. Someone needs you to pull his big ass out of the fire."

Gungi was already awake at the sound of his Master's voice. _"Oh, well, Master. I am used to saving yours. How much harder could more real estate be?"_

"I heard that, hairball," comes a sharp voice from the speaker. "You and the older hairball quit screwing around and stand on it."

The crew chief comes up. "All ready to go, General."

A sharp-featured woman in a flight suit comes up to his ship. "Commander Yung, take over as Strike. Got something to do. Continue to harass the Seppie ground forces and support ours."

She nods, her blue-tinted hair moving slightly. "Take care, General. We'll do you proud."

"Never doubted it, Hana. Keep 'em safe."

Gungi is already in the turret, testing it yet again. Croft pulls his headset on and starts the repulsors. The bomber lifts. He keys the mike near his lip. "Flight Control, this is General Croft. I have a priority Jedi evac. I need a flight of _Vevs_ and a lartie or two to meet me at the..." He turns and looks at the agromech. A lazy beep comes forth. "At the Tonada entrance to the lower levels."

"We'll do our best, General," the voice intones.

"General, this is Yung. I can spare three Y-Wings whose targeting computers are down to use their turrets to cover your ass."

Croft smiles. "Thanks, Yung. Control, you got that?"

"Affirm. Tasking two larties to you."

He pushes the throttle forward and hurtles into the fading light.

XXXXX

Jana Sloane sits in a spare chair, running a stylus up into the new cast on her left arm to scratch a nagging itch. This was the first time she had sat in over twenty hours. She listens to the damage and casualty reports, occasionally asking one of the reporting officers a pointed question. She realizes that her ship is in no shape to engage. The remaining three ships of her command are in worse shape.

She closes her eyes. She is about to call Fleet to request relief. Something that she despises doing.

Her crew follows her lead in their disdain for quitting a fight before it is finished. Her new flag lieutenant, Abaka walks up to her, a smile on his young face. "Captain, Fleet has signaled. Reinforcements have arrived from the Mid-Rim. They said we can be relieved."

Jana silently breathes a sigh of relief. "Start getting our wounded off. Quick as you can."

"Already on it, Captain. Hospital shuttles have already loaded up most of the most seriously wounded."

 _How the hell did I miss that?_ she thinks to herself. "Very good, Mr. Abaka. Well done."

She nods to him as he waits expectantly. "Signal from Flag to squadron. _Retire in echelon to cover relief_."

Abaka nods and moves out of her vision. The first lieutenant walks up. "Fires are burning out of control, Captain. We have managed to evacuate the affected decks, but we are going to have to open them to space, as soon as we can."

"Make it happen, Commander."

"Aye, aye, Captain," the officer says.

"Captain!" Abaka says, some of his former excitement in his voice and face. "Priority flash from Fleet," he says, before she can take him to task for his exuberance on her bridge. "Generals Kenobi and Skywalker have jumped in and have launched their attack runs on the Separatist flagship to try and rescue the Chancellor. There is a flank open that two heavies are moving in on. There are no other capital ships closer than us. They request that the squadron move in and attack the heavies."

 _No, dammit. We have bled enough._ flashes across her mind. She looks at the expectant faces of her crew. _Her family._ She looks down.

Jana Sloane looks at the stars. She stands and clenches her fist. "Signal Fleet, affirmative." she says. She hears an intake of breath. All of the bridge crew had heard the damage and casualty reports; they knew how their ship and its sisters had suffered. She turns from them. "Signal from Flag. _Cancel previous. Form line of battle. Prepare to engage._ " She closes her eyes. She opens them to Abaka, waiting expectantly. _"Follow my lead."_

"Aye, aye, Captain."

No one moves. She catches the eye of the grizzled Chief Bosun's Mate. He is smiling. He nods at her. He turns to the crew. "You heard the Captain," he roars. "Are you waiting for an engraved fucking invitation?"

"Put me on the 1-MC. To all ships." She picks up the mike. "This is Captain Sloane." She takes a deep breath. "I know that all of you were thinking we had done enough. Unfortunately the Navy needs us to do one more thing today. We are going to cover the rescue of the Chancellor. Something that could turn the tide of this battle, and possibly the war. I know that we have bled a lot, already, but we are the best of the best." She can feel tears forming in her eyes.

She shakes her head angrily. "We will be attacking two heavies. We have to delay them or flame them, long enough for those two Jedi to fight their way through."

She chokes; clicks off the mike. She sees Abaka smiling at her. She looks around. All of the crew is smiling at her. _Don't these idiots know that we probably won't get through this?_

"I have no doubt that we will acquit ourselves well," she continues. "I am so very proud of each of you. And...."

She drops the mike. _Fucking rah-rah bullshit._ She looks up. From the speakers, from the pickups on all of the ships; she hears a roar. At first, she thinks that it is a malfunction. A product of the heavy damage.

She realizes that the sound is cheering. Mad cheering, joined by the crew on the bridge. She is overcome. Abaka steps up, his young voice suddenly speaking with authority. "All ahead flank. Man all guns." He pauses, looks at Sloane, nods. "Signal from Flag. _Engage the enemy closer._ "

XXXXX

Drop looks at his last magazine for the DC-15s. He had already used his sidearm as a makeshift bomb to destroy a squadron of commando droids by overloading the last magazine. He looks at Elle. He can see her eyes filling with worry as she swings her saber to deflect bolts. Showim already has sheathed his saber. He watches Elle swing.

_Great, so much for having two Jedi._

Elle shakes her head at him. "He doesn't have any Force-sense, love. It's like it it just switched off."

"So he is pretty much useless, huh?"

She purses her lips and nods. "Pretty much, Drop."

He looks down as he opens fire again. "Sorry, sweetie. Sorry I can't get you out of this one."

She smiles. "Don't expect you to, love. I can get myself out of most things."

"Never a doubt in my mind."

"As much as all this _attaching_ is entertaining to an ex-Jedi," Showim says, "we still have at least a hundred problems that we need to solve." He points to the rows of B2s advancing towards them."

"He's right, Drop. We're not going to get out of here, love. Not unless something drastic happens," Elle says.

She advances her saber, as she continues to deflect. "Drop, get back into the building with him. Find a place to hide."

Drop's expression is fierce. "Hell, no, _jetti'ka_. I have never hid from a fight. I certainly am not going to hide when there are one and a half Jedi for me to protect."

Showim starts to say something. "Shut it," the Null says, holding a finger up. Elle places a finger from her gloved hand on his lips. "Drop. It is the only way. "You are out of ammunition. There aren't any B1s that we can grab blasters from. Even if we could get close. I can hold them off until Tal gets here."

"I won't do this, Elle. I will not abandon you. We fight together." His voice drops to a whisper. "We die together, as well, if need be."

"Maybe before, my Null. That was before we knew that there was someone depending on us. At least one of us has to live."

The mention of their daughter gives them both pause. Garda looks at them. His eyes focus. "Children," he says gently. "You both need to be there for this child. If not, the Council will force the one of you that is left to give up the child."

Both Elle and Drop look at one another and then at the disgraced healer. "Did you actually say something half-way lucid, Doc?" Drop asks incredulously.

"Know it is hard to believe, but yes. The only thing that matters is this child. We have to find her."

Elle's eyes narrow suspiciously. Without a word, she takes his saber from his hip and ignites it. She begins to deflect with both blades, sending them back to the dozen or so B2s left. The droidekas that have arrived hang back, their shields occasionally sparking. As they reach the line of B2s, Elle becomes a whirlwind of motion, leaping back and forth in a true dance.

Drop marvels at her movement. He had seen her fight before, but never with this symphony of light and sound.

Within moments, she has sliced through the entire contingent of B2s. The droidekas open up. Elle continues to deflect the bolts, but the ray-shields defeat any attempts to destroy them.

Drop has managed to scoop up a vivisected commando droid's discarded blaster and adds his own firepower to her deflected blasts. Drop can see that Elle is beginning to tire. He continues to fire, but with no effect.

He glances at her. Her face is determined. _That is what I fell for_ , he thinks to himself. His face grows grim as the droidekas start their march. He hears a cry, as Elle misses a bolt.

 _I'm sorry, Junior,_ he says to the unknown girl. _We tried._

The air is split by a roar. The look up and see a battered Y-Wing descending vertically through the entrance shaft to the undercity. The bomber slows and opens fire on the weaker rear shields of the destroyers. Explosions reverberate off of the congested buildings under the shaft. "Look!" Showim says, pointing.

Two brilliant shafts of emerald light break off from the bomber and descend rapidly. The two blades immediately begin slicing the remaining droidekas from the rear, as well as engaging a dozen B1s that have run up.

Elle adds her two blades to the whirling dervishes of light.

There is only the hum and clash of lightsabers and the clang of metallic parts on the ground.

XXXXX

A bloodied, shaking hand claws its way to the bridge railing. Jana Sloane pulls her body up as she looks at the chaos of the bridge around her, through her one good eye. Her heart sinks as she sees the bodies piled on the bridge. She looks over at Abaka, a beam lying across his chest. His eyes are open and staring.

Staring accusingly at her. _I lead them to this. I killed them._

She hears a voice in her head. A light, laughing voice. _No, big sis. You did what had to be done._ She feels the voice smile. _It's what you always did. Even when you were taking care of me. I am so proud of you._

A part of her logical brain knows that a dying mind can hallucinate and tell her what she wants to hear.

She hears a noise. One of her clonetroopers runs up to her. "Easy, Captain. We'll get you out of here."

"R-report," she says. "One of the two Sep frigates has been destroyed." She can hear the modulated voice fall. The rest of the squadron is gone, though. We are the only ship left."

She takes a deep breath. "Damage report," she manages. A different voice answers. The old chief bosun's mate, who had motivated the bridge crew earlier speaks. "We're done for, Captain. Most of the guns are out of commission. We still have engines; could probably manage a burst of speed to get us out of here, but that is about it."

Jana looks out. She can see the other Sep leaving them, heading for Kenobi and Skywalker, who are still fighting their way to the flagship.

She looks down at herself. A shaft of metal, a piece of the beam that killed Abaka, protrudes through her lower torso. She can see the blood flowing steadily around it.

She can feel her lower limbs growing cold, as they lose feeling. She smiles and makes her choice. "Bosun, get me to the helm."

"No, Captain! We can't move you. You'll die," he says. "Chief, I am dead already," she says. Jana is amazed at how calm her voice is. "Get me over there, dammit. That's an order."

It only takes a moment for the trooper and the Chief to maneuver her to the helm. They stop several times as she screams. She curses them and forces them to keep moving. They pull a chair up to the console. She immediately starts throwing the helm over. The ship starts to slowly turn.

They are all amazed that the _Venator_ , first of her class, answers. She finds the Seppie flagship. In the thirty minutes it has taken her squadron and the other Sep ship to die, Kenobi, Skywalker and their squadron have been able to maneuver and get closer to the flagship. The Seppie frigate that is moving away from her ship will cut them off, even though it is heavily damaged. Gold Squadron is fighting their way through thousands of droid fighters, but they wouldn't stand a chance against the frigate.

She maneuvers her head to look at the bosun. "Bosun's mate. Pipe 'Abandon Ship." He stares at her. He finally nods. He walks over to the comm console, pulling out his call as he does.

She closes her eyes as the high-pitched staccato whistle plays over the ship.

Jana Sloane looks at her two remaining crewmembers. "Go. When you hear me sound 'Collision', you have sixty seconds to be off this ship.

They nod. They both come to attention and salute her. She returns the salute as best as she can. "Captain," the Chief says, "it has been an honor."

She can feel tears running from her eyes. "The honor has always been mine."

She turns back to the helm. She grasps the engine order telegraph with her broken arm, pushing through the pain to jam it forward. Forward to the firewall. She hears the bell answer.

The ship jolts forward, picking up speed. She judges her distance. She sees a beautiful face, much like her own, in her mind's vision, smiling at her. _I'm sorry, Rae. I love you. Wish I could see you continue grow to be the amazing woman you will be._

She sees many other faces. One in particular. A young Jedi, his bearded features almost obscuring a warm grin. Her smile grows as she thinks of shared laughter.

She doesn't think of their shared pain any longer.

She sees the distance close. She can feel the escape pods launching. She hits the alarm. The rising and falling wail sounds throughout the ship.

She can feel her consciousness fading.

In her mind, she hears the familiar Corellian drawl. "Jana!" it says.

She realizes that the voice comes from a speaker, not her mind.

She toggles the switch.

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft holds Elle Jaquindo to him. He realizes that Drop has circled them both with his large arms, as has Gungi. A tall human male, his stringy hair lank on his forehead, watches them curiously through slightly bent eyes.

The four of them break apart. Drop starts to say something, a smirk starting on his face.

Elle beats him to it. "What the hell kept you?" she says.

"You really have been hanging around him too long."

"How do you know he hasn't been hanging around with me too long?" she says with her brilliant smile. Tal reaches over and gives her a brief kiss.

He starts and puts his hand to his headset. He and Gungi look at one another with horror. Drop tunes his.

Tal and Gungi are running towards the clearing. They leap to their ship as it comes closer. The ship roars straight up through the shaft.

"Drop, what is it?" Elle asks with increasing dread. He looks at her, his own eyes growing grim. "Sloane. Her ship is making a run for a Sep heavy, to cover an attempt to rescue the Chancellor. The ship is heavily damaged and burning." He takes her hand. "It looks like she intends to ram."

Elle chokes back a sob. Drop takes her in his arms.

XXXXX

"Jana!" Croft exclaims into the pickup. Three other tries have resulted in static.

He has the old bomber screaming through the atmo and into the dark. He hears a carrier wave engage.

"Hey, stud," comes her voice. He gasps at how weak her voice is. "Jana, sweetie, slow down. We'll get you off, then set it to ram."

"No time, Tal. Got to hit it just right to flame it. So the old bastard can get saved and all that."

"Sloaner, no..."

He can hear the smile in her voice through her pain. "Not much time, sweetie," she says. "Just glad I get to tell you that I enjoyed the laughs with you, Croft." Her voice grows weaker, then comes back to him. "Didn't even mind the hurt and loss as much. You made it bearable."

"Hey Fuzz," she says suddenly. Gungi hoots in reply. "Look out for this dumbass. He needs a lot of help." She chokes. "Help him find his way."

He lows softly. Her voice fails for a moment. For a brief second, he thinks that she is gone. "Keep the faith, Taliesin Croft," she says.

He hears a melody come through the speakers. A soft lullaby, a childhood song, sang in a soft, beautiful voice. The words are unfamiliar, as is the tune.

He looks up, just in time to see the proud stardestroyer - a beautiful young captain's pride and joy, strike the aft portion of the frigate at an angle. The wedge shape, burning and shedding debris, powers into the ship.

There is no explosion, merely the rending and tearing of the Separatist ship.

As well as the _Venator_.

The Sep frigate shudders as the bridge of the stardestroyer impacts the enemy ship. The beautiful song has faded.

Croft can hear sobbing coming from the turret. Tears spill down his cheeks.

The lights and engines lights of the droid ship flicker and vanish. The two ships drift.

An excited voice comes over the command net. "Kenobi and Skywalker have boarded the flagship! I repeat--."

Gungi kills the connection.

There is silence as Croft turns towards the planet.


	10. 9. We, however, loathsome, suited for death,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers are found on one planet. 
> 
> More questions and a way out on another.

**Kashyyyk**  
**Empire Day minus 4**

Taliesin Croft looks out over the vast forests as he stands in the midst of a flurry of activity in the center of a makeshift Republic base. His eyes are on the horizon, but his mind is elsewhere.

His mind is standing on a platform at the Jedi Temple the day before. The smell of smoke is still in the air.

The smell of death and destruction.

A Republic naval frigate flares in and pulls up parallel to the landing platform. Taliesin hears Gungi give a quiet, mournful hoot as the hatch opens. The ramp extends; a detachment of clone troopers marching down with their trademark precision before it even touches the platform.

They turn as one at the end of the ramp and face each other.

Croft turns and looks at the assemblage. The Jedi Council, represented by Yoda and Windu. Kenobi, and the newly appointed Skywalker are there as well. The rest are offworld, managing the dozens of battles across the galaxy.

Many senior naval officers are there. Yularen. Yung. A commander of about his own age named Kolan.

Senators such as Bail Organa and the Senator-Observant from Corellia, Garm Bel Iblis. Padme' Amidala stands next to them, clad in a voluminous cloak that is much thicker than the weather calls for.

Noticeably absent is the man whose salvation was made possible by the sacrifice of the woman about to board this frigate. A frigate very similar to the ship that she had made her name in. One that had made him into an adult and a leader.

About to board the frigate for a final voyage.

He hears an officer's command. He pulls himself to attention and brings his hand to his brow. He sees no other Jedi saluting, but bowing as a lone stasis tube is guided to the ramp from inside the temple.

He doesn't care.

The stasis tube is covered by the Republic flag.

As it passes him, Croft sees her face laughing at him as she defeated him in another spar. He sees her face after she was recovered from the wreckage.

Her face as peaceful as he had ever seen it. At rest. Even when looking down at it as she slept, he got the sense that her mind was always ready to come alert at any danger to her crew. He fights back tears as she passes; her physical being bound for a certain point in space. As per her request.

A place where a young Judicial officer survived a pirate attack and the rest of her crew did not.

A place that was the genesis of sorts of an Aurabesh tattoo on her ribcage. A place where she transformed into the leader and person that he knew.

A tattoo that he had kissed on many quiet occasions. A marking that described her completely.

_Survivor._

As the assembly breaks up he looks up at the ramp. A young woman, a younger version of Jana stands there, in a naval cadet's uniform. For a brief moment, the young woman catches Croft's eyes. Her own tear-streaked face gazes at his.

Rae Sloane nods at him and lifts her hand slightly as she turns to follow her sister.

Croft stands there long after the frigate and the crowd has departed. He looks at a crumpled holograph. A holograph that had been surreptitiously shoved into his pocket as a young naval captain embraced him for the last time.

A holo made from a larger one. An example that he had looked at on the bulkhead of her cabin. The smaller holo bears four figures in the midst of others.

A young huntress, looking up at him, laughter in her eyes. He looking down on her with his own amusement. Next to him, a young naval captain, her dark face split with a grin as she looked at both. The final figure. A large clone, his fierce expression softened by a long-suffering look of affection at the others.

A large clone who is walking up to him at this moment. The two men embrace. "I'm sorry, Tal. She was a helluva leader."

_High praise from this man._

Croft shakes his head. "Where is Elle?"

Drop's face turns fiercer than normal. "We figured out that our daughter never left Corellia. She, Dani, and some other Corellian cop are watching a bunch of Alphas that have turned up."

Croft nods, absorbing this. Ti had sent him a brief synopsis of all that was going on while she was on her way back to Kamino. "Why aren't you there with her? Thought you were attached to Ti."

Drop's voice is cold. "I was until Appo decided he needed his hand held. My assignment has been delayed for a couple of weeks." His expression softens a bit. "At least Tang, from the old 332nd is here to hold his hand as well.

Croft smiles as he thinks of the young officer. _Another of Ti's favorites._ "I am waiting to see what Elle turns up. Ti said that she would make sure that I can get to Corellia, if needed."

He looks at Croft with concern. "How about you, Croft?"

"Bound for Kashyyyk. With Yoda. Only way I can get to talk to the little bastard."

Drop smirks. "That is a far cry from 'don't-say-that-Drop-he-can-hear-anything."

"Don't rightly care what he hears."

Drop shakes his head. He smiles gently. "Elle says that you are probably leaving the Order."

Croft nods, then looks at the platform deck. "I think so. I am going to talk to Yularen and see if he can find something in the Navy for me. Might be useful. Or even in one of the planetary militias that are serving off of their world."

"Hell, I would settle for protecting do-gooders for Naboo or Alderaan. Nola said that she would speak to someone on either world. Her cousin Padme' has a little influence."

His eyes look to the horizon, at the shrinking frigate. _Marching far away._ He takes hold of a silvered medal on a chain. One that is usually under his tunic. He smiles thoughtfully and looks back at the trooper. "There is the possibility that I could find a place on my world." The smile fades. "Either of them. Even the one that didn't want me."

Drop smirks again for a moment, but transforms it to a proud smile. "At the risk of you thinking that I might want me to take you to my bunk, I think anyone would want you to fight for them, Taliesin."

Croft's eyebrows raise. His crooked smile flows to his features. "Elle might never want you back if I climbed into bed with you two."

"She's done without you this long." His face grows sad. "What about Mouse? Word is, you and she just might want to find each other again."

For the first time since he has known the Jedi, Croft blushes and smiles in a manner that could only be called shy. "Don't know, Drop. I don't know where she is and if she wants to be found."

Drop rolls his eyes and punches his Jedi in the chest. Croft staggers, but doesn't fall. "You _jetti_ are dumber than a bag of spanners. Neither one of you can see what is in front of you. You need a smarter clone and a smack upside the head to see it. I only knew her for a short time. But that young woman knows what she wants and she, for some damn strange reason, thinks that the sun shone out of your ass. I could see how much respect you had for her, as well. How much love." He sees Croft about to protest. He holds his hand up. "I know, I know. It wasn't like that in the beginning. But I could see where it could lead to that."

He puts his hand on Tal's shoulder."Yes, she is younger. But the Jedi Order made it where she had to make her own decisions. They were going to fucking make some poor soul like me snuff her out. A trooper that from what I heard from the my new unit, worshipped her for how she loved them. Hell, those toothies on her head gave her adult status on her world."

Croft says nothing. He looks at Drop.

"I don't know what I am going to do, Drop. His eyes grow determined. "But, I need to do something with the War. I need to do something for my brothers." His smile turns into a grin. "Even, you, useless."

"You're making me feel all warm inside." Their laughter stops. Without a word, Drop draws the Jedi into his arms again. They stand there as brothers. As they break apart. Drop comes to attention and salutes his general.

The general returns his trooper's salute.

The shared moment brings Croft back to a forest world. Back to the present.

He climbs into his Eta.

To his destiny.

**Corellia**

Chief Superintendent Lodhara, Corellian Security Forces, retired, stands on a crate looking out of a small 'fresher window at a non-descript speeder repair company. He wrinkles his nose as he thinks of his week.

 _Dragon, you owe me big time_ , he thinks to himself. _I got promoted and retired so I would never have to stand on a crate in a filthy refresher again._

He smiles as he thinks of his partner in this endeavor. He perks up as he hears footsteps. Inspector Dani Faygan opens the door. She grins as she sees him. The newly cropped hair enhances the smile.

_Although her longer hair, did, too._

"Hey, you dirty old man. How's it going in your new home?"

He gives the Drall equivalent of a smirk. "It is only a home if something as beautiful as you is in it," he says.

"You are such a charmer," she replies. "At least you are polite. A certain small slicer of my acquaintance would be trying to look down my top by now from that perch."

"Some of us have class rather than wit," Lod says. Dani smiles warmly. "I think you have plenty of both, Chief." she says.

She grows serious. "So anything new?"

"No, not really. Your large identical friends are congregating, but I can't tell where their objective is."

"CorSec tracked a signal here. They seemed to be implying, if we are reading the code that they have found 'the package.' Can't think of anything else Alpha-class clones would be after on Corellia."

He nods. "You feel like taking a look for awhile? These old bones need to sit."

Dani smiles. "I think that I could do that, Lod."

The small officer jumps down. He sits on a stool. "It really is none of my business, Dani, but why the change in look?"

She stands on the crate, gets down and turns it on a different end. She smiles as she gets back up, then nods. "The head injury was such that there was too much hair back there for the bacta to hit for proper absorption. Decided it was time for a change."

He sighs soberly. "It's okay, Lod," she says. "Part of the job."

Her eyes narrow. "Looks like more Alphas have arrived." She lifts her comm to her lips. "Draq', stand on it. They're making their move."

She jumps down from the crate. Her hand goes to the back of her waistband. Lod opens a case and pulls out a small rifle, complete with scope. "Just as planned, Daaineran. I'll hit the roof and cover you." He squeezes her hand. "Make sure that you wait for backup. I don't want to wait on you in bacta again."

"You be careful, too, Chief," she says. On impulse she bends down and kisses him on his cheek. "See you soon."

XXXXX

 _Come on Draq',_ Dani thinks to herself. _What part of stand on it do you not get?_

She makes her way around the corner of a building across the street. As she does, she sees glass breaking from an upper window.

She sees two small figures jump together from the second-floor room. One of them, the slightly smaller figure, lands awkwardly. Dani's eyes widen as she sees the other figure land gracefully and roll.

The officer sees larger figures starting to run towards the escapees.

Dani makes her choice. She runs towards the two Alphas and opens fire.

One of the large clones goes down under her fire. The other turns towards her and brings his carbine up.

A hole appears in his head.

 _Thanks, Lod,_ she thinks. She is about to turn towards the two small running figures when more Alphas appear out of the building.

She turns, taking a fighting stance. She smiles challengingly and raises her blaster. As she sees the troopers raise theirs, she hears a humming and crashing noise.

A blue shaft of light erupts from one trooper's chest. Dani's smile grows wider, as the beam moves through the chest cavity to the left.

And vivisects the second trooper. The third trooper is Dani's challenge.

She answers it.

Dani checks the area and moves to the Jedi. She takes Elle in her arms. She kisses the Chalactan.

Elle's eyebrows rise as the greeting includes a squeeze on the ass.

They break away. "Sorry," Dani says sheepishly. "Get kind of excited when I see beautiful friends."

"What do you see when you see Croft?" Elle snarks.

Dani chokes. "Didn't think you had it in you, sweetie."

Elle grows serious. "Where are they?"

Dani turns toward her rear. As she does, she sees flashes of blaster fire on the top of the opposite roof.

A roof where a small, retired CorSec member had made his perch. She starts towards the roof. She stops and turns towards Elle. She sees the Jedi sprinting away. She hears Elle say, "Go. I've got it."

As she runs, Dani brings her comm to her lips again and broadcasts, "10-13. MOF needs help at this location."

She hears sirens and horns erupt from across the city. _Please let me be wrong._

XXXXX

Elle turns the corner. The area is a vacant alley. She closes her eyes. There is a small burble in the Force. "Come on out, sweetie. I won't hurt you."

She hears a slight noise. She tenses, but sheathes her blade. She walks closer. A small figure walks out.

A small young girl with dark hair. Bronze skin. A strong, searching gaze. Both skeptical and with a glimpse of compassion.

A gaze of one dark blue eye and one golden one. Elle's heart sings as she kneels down and holds her arms open. The girl looks at her for a moment. As if a light switch is thrown, the girl's eyes lighten. She runs towards Elle.

Their tears blend together as she holds the girl tightly.

Unknown to the two, a pair of dark eyes watch them. The Drall's eyes tear as she watches. She winces as she turns and crawls away. A broken leg slows her crawl away, but she manages to slip away. She lifts a sewer cover.

Norgradhala takes one last look at the pair and disappears into the night.

XXXXX

Dani bursts out onto the roof. Her heart sinks as she surveys the scene. Three of the illicit Alphas lay on the floor.

One of them obscures a small body.

She charges over. She manages to lift the heavy trooper off of the retired officer.

Dani looks down at Lod. The Drall's face is locked into a snarl. His blaster is in his hand.

At least three wounds mar his torso. The last from a knife blade in his chest.

Wielded by the Alpha whose chest is gaping open from the Chief's blaster.

He had sold his life dearly.

Dani slumps by his body. Her sobs rend the air.

Draq' Bel Iblis finds her as he walks on the roof. His eyes are sad as he takes her in his arms.

"What the hell are we doing, Dragon?" she yells at him. "I thought that this was someone else's fucking war."

Her sobs soften as her father--a fact that neither acknowledges--one to protect his child, the other to let him protect her, rocks her. He lifts her up and looks into her eyes. His callused fingers gently wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"He wasn't even supposed to be here. He was retired," she says. Draq' closes his eyes. "I know," he says. "But Lodhara never shirked from a fight." He smiles, as if at a memory. "He was my training officer as an apprentice Deputy. He taught me every thing I know. Everybody underestimated him because he was so small. He was the toughest cop I ever knew."

She buries her face in his chest.

He can only answer her question with one answer.

_For family._

**Kashyyyk**  
**Empire Day minus 3**

Yoda sits in the early morning hours, waiting on a report.

His ancient face is grim. Much like it has for over a thousand days.

He awaits news of a young Jedi.

Like many, a young Jedi disillusioned by his Order's role in the darkness of the galaxy.

A knock at his tent brings his attention from the light of the candle.

Luminara Unduli walks in at his assent. Her yellow-green face is lined. Yoda closes his eyes in pain. _Another one torn asunder by this war._ He sees two faces in the candlelight. One, a grave young face of Master Unduli's species, a soft smile on her face.

The other, a young Togruta, a huntress, a bright smile full of sharp carnivore's teeth. The most promising of her age group.

Most promising due in large part to the skill and patience of the disillusioned young Jedi he is awaiting word on.

A promise now lost to the Order.

His ears twitch as he comes back to the present. He nods at Luminara. "News, you have, Master, of young Croft?"

Luminara looks down. "Yes, Master Yoda. We found his droid. The droid said that when their ship was hit, Croft ejected him when he saw the damage couldn't be fixed and the ship was in danger of imminent destruction."

She stops. Her mind is elsewhere. With a friend and fellow Master. A Master who had finally raised two Padawans to knighthood after losing two.

Yoda is waiting patiently. She continues. "The astromech was able to lead us to the debris field." She grits her teeth. "There wasn't much left. There was indication of an intense fire." She slumps. "Apparently the weapons discharge nexus was hit. A bad place to get hit on the Etas. For the pilot."

"What of Croft?" the Grand Master asks. "We found no full remains. The scanning team found DNA around the remains of the cockpit, consistent with his DNA on file. We also found this."

Yoda nods. "His lightsaber, I recognize."

He closes his eyes. "Thank you, Master Unduli. Find rest, you must. Mourn him we will tomorrow."

Unduli looks at him as he grieves. "Master Ti will take this hard," she says, thinking of her friend. Of her young hunter who is now...

Yoda nods. "Take comfort, she will, that he is now one with the Force."

Unduli's eyes flash momentarily at the platitude. Without bowing, she turns and leaves.

Yoda doesn't open his eyes, but a slight smile plays on his lips.


	11. 10. Trample along, crunching this desert splendor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Countdown and obfuscation

**Kashyyyk**  
**Empire Day minus 3**

Yoda looks up from the candle he is contemplating after Unduli had left. His Force sense tingles for about a half a second, then is quiet. The slight smile returns to his face.

"Good, your shielding is, young one," he says.

He hears a noise from the inner room of the tent. He doesn't turn as a figure walks out. "Maybe so, Master, but your guards aren't worth a shit."

The wizened Grand Master turns. "Compete with a Shadow, they cannot." The smile fades. "Your language you must watch. Still a Jedi, you are."

"Never saw that one in the Code. Even that time-twisted one you ascribe to"

Yoda doesn't rise to the jab. He focuses on the figure.

A figure clad in full Phase I commando armor. He sees the trooper raise his hands to the helmet.

His eyes widen as the face is revealed. A shaved head and face stares out at him, where there had been hair and beard. A large tattoo in purple covers the left side of his face.

A Mandalorian sigil that is unknown to Yoda. He smiles at the color choice. A choice that bridges both of the young man's cultures.

For the culture of warriors, reputedly the color of luck. Something that Jedi do not generally believe in, but some recognize as a part of the Force.

For the family of gamblers and creators; of engineers and protectors--the color of justice.

Where brown to amber eyes normally stare out from the armor, with only a few bearing the blue 'ghost' eyes, the young man's powerful gold-flecked green eyes gaze at the ancient Master.

A smirk flows across Yoda's jade face. "Needs work, the look does. Too short, you are, as well."

The Corellian grin flows across the serious face. "Too short? From you, old man?"

The man who was once Taliesin Croft is amazed that he doesn't receive a blow across his shins from the tiny cane.

"Well, I can either shield, or I can grow. Can't do both."

Yoda nods soberly. "I know. Choose, you will have to, if live long enough to reject your birthright, you do."

Croft doesn't rise to anger. "Master, I am cursed with many birthrights. In the Temple. On Corellia. Even on Mandalore; one that I haven't explored. I must, like Ahsoka did, choose my own path." He softens. "I appreciate you giving me the chance to choose."

Yoda's ears twitch back. "To us come back, my hope it is. If accomplish this Trial, you do, you will be welcomed back." His gaze pins the young warrior - the peacekeeper. "Even if you succeed, if it is your path, then you can choose your name."

Croft nods. Yoda's terminology of what he is about to face is not lost on him. "Might just choose the one I was born with."

Yoda hands him the lightsaber. The lightsaber recovered from his death. The saber has been cleaned and polished. Lovingly.

By the hands of the Grand Master of the Order.

"Be careful, with this, young Taliesin. Your life it is." His eyes narrow. "I have listed it as dismantled, and too damaged to keep safely in the Archives."

 _With the lightsabers of our other honored dead. That could be recovered,_ he doesn't add.

Taliesin takes the weapon and brings his opposite index finger to his forehead in a jaunty salute. "Yes, Master," is all that he says. He dons his helmet.

He bows to the Master. "May the Force be with you, Master Yoda," he says formally.

Yoda returns the bow. "May the Force be with you." He pauses. He speaks a name that had been lost to the young Jedi.

"Jame Blackthorn."

 **Corellia**  
**Empire Day minus 2**

Dani Faygan and Draq' Bel Iblis walk into the docking bay. A battered Corellian version of a Jedi shuttle sits there. Draq' watches his officer with worry as they walk.

_Will the sadness and worry ever be out of her eyes again?_

Sadness for Lod. Worry for two Jedi. Including one that she is bonded to in the eyes of her people.

Worry for the two standing outside the shuttle. One a smaller copy of another.

He sees a smile grow on Dani's crimson face as she moves past him. He sees the joy mirrored on Elle Jaquindo's face as they embrace.

He smirks as the Jedi gives Dani's trademark greeting to the officer. Their laughter rises as Elle says, "Thought I would be pre-emptive."

Draq' stops, fascinated by the tableau. Elle turns to the little girl watching the byplay with wide eyes. "Dani, this is....Junior."

"She is the daughter of my heart and my blood." Dani starts at the words. Words from her birthworld. The words mean the same to a Chalactan.

Dani kneels next to the girl. She is back a slight distance from her. She holds her arms open wide. The girl looks up at Elle.

The Chalactan smiles at the girl and nods.

Junior walks into the Zeltron's embrace. Draq's eyes tear as he sees a bit of sparkle enter his daughter's eyes.

_Daughter of my heart and my blood._

Dani rises with the girl still in her arms. The girl buries her head in the officer's shoulder. Dani can soon feel the rhythmic breathing of a sleeping child.

"Junior?" Dani asks with a grin.

"Figured it will hold until I see Drop. It will be his choice, as he had less choice in the matter than I did."

Dani shakes her head, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. "Fairly certain that Drop would say the same thing for you, dear."

"Maybe. But he recognizes my authority in this matter, " Elle snarks.

"Drop? Recognize authority? Never. Almost as much chance of Taliesin Croft recognizing authority."

Their quiet laughter lightens the air. "Well, considering what they think with....." Elle finishes.

Elle's face grows serious. "Are you okay, Dani?"

Dani smiles sadly. "I will be. When a certain huntress leaves Kamino and falls into my arms."

Draq's heart soars at her words. "I think that we will, when this is over with, go to Zeltros for a while." She smiles. "She told me that she has been there before. That she learned a lot of lessons there." The smile transforms into a huntress-credible smirk. "There will be a fertility festival coming up. I think that we will go there and I will truly introduce her to Zeltros."

 _Probably will want to not let the Jedi Council know about that vacation,_  Draq' thinks with a rueful grin. He remembers a particular fertility festival of this deity from around a quarter-century ago. A younger Corellian, still healing from the loss of his beloved wife and trying to learn how to connect with his young son from that union, falling into the arms of a Zeltron engineer with laughing purple eyes.

Eyes similar to the young woman that makes his heart swell with pride. He walks over. Elle falls into his arms. He feels the jewel on her forehead against his chest.

"You and Drop are always welcome on my world, Elle. Take care. May the Force be with you," he adds. He releases the Jedi. He kisses the tiny ear of the girl held by a young Inspector, careful not to wake her.

Dani and her Dragon watch the shuttle rise into the light.

Unaccountably, to observers, the Procurator-Fiscal and External of the Five Brothers, arguably the most powerful man in the Corellian sector, even more so than the Diktat, kisses the temple of his most junior Inspector and newest Ranger as the shuttle's main engines cut in, a sonic boom marking its departure.

 **Kashyyyk**  
**Empire Day minus one**

A LAAT/i prepares to lift off. The four clone officers hold to the handholds. They are quiet as they contemplate the task before them.

The task of saving the Republic from the machinations of the Jedi. Of being on the cutting edge of all of the GAR clone forces. Before the formal protocol is executed.

They all remember the instructions given to them by their commander, Alpha-17. A brother now at the side of the Galactic Command Authority.

Waiting for the right moment.

The lartie starts to lift. It is a meter off of the ground when another clonetrooper jumps into the open door. The senior captain starts to speak, until he sees the Commander's insignia on the chest of the commando's armor.

In spite of their mission, obedience to senior officers is still inborn.

"Thanks, _Vod'e_ ," he officer says. "Need a ride to the 442nd. Command said you were headed that way."

The four officers look at one another, but seemingly say nothing. There is something about the commander that is off.

_His voice?_

They switch to a secured frequency. The commander turns his back.

"We need to get close to Yoda and Unduli for whenever the protocol might be enacted. They are the most powerful," one says.

Unbeknownst to them, other ears are listening. Or, at least other minds.

"The other Jedi, the younger knights and Padawans who are here will be easier. But, we should be the ones who will watch the Grand Master of the Order."

The listener doesn't react. _Nothing yet. They could be talking about providing Yoda with extra protection._

The listener thinks about what he had been told. _Suspicious we are, of Alphas in small groups, after the reports from Corellia and Kamino. Troubling it is that there are troopers not on rosters. With no identifying markers._

His face is grim behind the helmet. He remembers a 'normal' on Kamino who had sabotaged a training exercise, nearly killing his Master and others. Of a large Null recounting what the clone had said after the Null had shot him.

_I am free._

The commander concentrates on the conversations in his mind.

"We will be in position to execute...."

The commander involuntarily flinches.

The conversation dies. He feels the tension among the four Alphas rise. A metallic click is heard at the same time that he feels something metallic touch the back of his bucket.

"What is your number and assignment, brother?"one of the captains asks. The listener repeats the number and assignment he had taken.

There is a pause. He turns. "Very interesting," says another captain. "I know the commander of the 442nd. You are not him."

Another captain replaces a datapad on his belt. "CC-5792 died on Saleucami. Pretty spry for a dead man, Commander."

 _Yep,_ the listener thinks.

The senior captain suddenly yanks the stranger's helmet off. The four Alphas' eyes narrow behind their buckets.

At first glance, the clone's face is just like millions of others. But at a deeper look, there are subtle differences noticeable to any brother.

The eyes are golden-brown, but seem to be morphing to a different color.

"What the hell are you?" another captain asks, incredulously.

The brother smile. "As you say. I am a dead man." His eyes narrow. "A Shadow."

A cylinder flies into the mysterious commander's hand. A dazzling burst of light and the closest trooper falls, his chest split.

The commander spins and reverses the blade into the stomach of another officer. He senses a trigger finger squeezing. His blade moves to an opposite hand and deflects the first bolt into the ceiling. The second is deflected into the one who dealt the bolt.

He feels the gunship start to roll from left to right.

As if trying to dump him from the gunship.

He plunges the blade into the ceiling. He feels the death of the pilot.

The remaining Alpha fires. The bolt is deflected, but the faux commander is shoved into the forward bulkhead. His unprotected head strikes the metal. He manages to backpedal. His opposite hand pulls a device from his belt.

There is suddenly only air under his feet. His lightsaber goes flying. He manages to seize the helmet in the hands of the remaining clone. He throws the device. It strikes the overhead and clings.

The lartie disintegrates in a burst of fire.

He is out for only a few moments on the ground. The tiny bits of the lartie are raining down on him. He shakes his head.

Croft realizes that his mind is fuzzy.

As is his Force sense.

He collects the helmet and dons it over his splitting head. He looks around, but his lightsaber is nowhere to be found.

The young Corellian cannot focus to find it. He pulls out a second comm. A dedicated one. He punches the button. A furry face appears. "Come on in, Gung. Something is happening." He closes his eyes and makes a choice. "We need to get to Kamino."

He starts to run towards the place that the lartie had come from. He can hear the explosions of the battle beginning. The final assault on the Seps.

A gold and purple cylinder lies forgotten in a dark glade.

 **Coruscant**  
**Empire Day minus one**  
**Late evening**

Sergeant-Major Drop, known officially as Null-13, watches the shuttle land at the Jedi Temple. He tries to hide his anticipation, as befits a senior NCO of the Grand Army of the Republic. The ramp extends from the shuttle.

Two figures walk down. One already beloved, her smile broadening at the sight of him.

The other. His soldier's heart leaps at his first glimpse of her.

He charges the ramp, not caring that Garda Showim is right there. He stops. The girl does not. She runs into his arms.

A whispered word from the girl. A word that is from his imprinted heritage. A word that he is sure that the beautiful Chalactan has painstakingly taught the girl on the journey to this place and this moment.

_Buir._

Parent. For him, Father.

He picks the girl up. In earshot of both Elle and Showim, he speaks his own phrase in Mando'a.

_"Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad."_

"I know your name as my child."

Elle holds her breath as she waits for that name. They had discussed this.

"Talle," he says, sounding the last letter. As hers is meant to be in her formal name.

Tears come to her eyes as she thinks of a young Jedi's face. A man responsible for both of their growth and development as any.

Merely by giving them both the opportunity for that growth. She embraces them both.

Showim watches them. He has made sure that no one else could come onto the platform.

He clears his throat and smiles carefully.

**Kashyyyk orbit**

The man once known as Taliesin Croft steps through the airlock. He staggers, is caught by his Padawan. A beautiful Pantoran walks up to him and pulls him into her arms. Her bronze eyes are concerned as she kisses him.

He gently pulls away. "Hey, Lassa. I have missed you,too, but we need to move." He pulls a datachip from his belt and hands it to the Twi'lek navigator. "These are the coordinates for a new hyperspace route, as well as the authorization code." He doesn't think of the young Togruta who had brought part of these routes to the Republic.

"We need to get to Kamino. I think everybody is in danger, but I couldn't get to Yoda. Everybody is dealing with the battle. Comms are overwhelmed."

"You want to get to Ti," Lassa says. "Yeah. If there is anyone that can figure this out and come up with a solution - as a member of the Council, she can. The rest that are on Coruscant, with the possible exception of Skywalker, will dither."

_That is what he tells himself._

She nods at Thyla Secura. "We'll still have ten hours, or so," the navigator says. Taliesin smiles gently at the purple-skinned pirate. "If I recall, Ahsoka did some miracle work on the hyperdrive when she was here," he says sadly.

Thyla's brother nods emphatically. "That she did, Tal. I'll shave some time off for you." He smiles. "For Ahsoka."

Tal nods gratefully. Lassa looks at him tenderly. She motions to someone outside in the passageway. Too-onebee, Lassa's medical droid trundles in. "Eight or ten hours should give you some time to dive in some bacta for that big bump on your head."

 _Wonder if it will fix the Force?_ comes through his head as he responds to her kiss.

 **Coruscant**  
**Jedi Temple Healer's Wing**  
**Isolation Ward**

Elle watches as Drop looks at their sleeping daughter. She marvels at the softness; the love in his eyes.

Looks she had only seen for her. She doesn't mind at all.

No one has given her an attachment lecture yet. She is waiting for it, though.

It had been some twenty hours since she and Junior - Talle had arrived. Something was going on. She had seen several masters, including Kit Fisto and Mace Windu, leaving the Temple earlier.

Rapidly.

She had tried to contact Ti on Kamino, but communications had been spotty.

Showim walks in and motions to them.

She and Drop follow him; Drop reluctantly.

"The tests have come back. I think that Che is trying to obstruct me."

"Garda, use your words. Not your paranoid ramblings," Drop says.

The Naboo stares at the trooper, his eyes narrowed.

In spite of his fatigue, Drop doesn't shake in his boots. Showim relents. "Her midichlorian count is still low. No sign of Force sensitivity.

Strangely, both Elle and Drop are relieved.

"What about the aging, Garda?" Elle asks quietly.

He smiles. "Good news, on that, depending upon your perspective. She appears to be about five standard years old. I can find no evidence of hypermaturity."

Elle smiles. Drop is unsure. "Hyper-what?"

"It appears to have stopped. Cell tests tell us that she is aging at a normal human and near-human rate."

Drop nods. He kisses Elle.

He sees Showim's look. There is, apparently, more.

"She does appear to have a few, uh, enhanced abilities," he says.

"What?" the Jedi asks.

"She is extremely agile. I think that she will always land on her feet." the disgraced healer says.

Drop's eyes smile. "Nothing wrong with that. Can't wait to spar with her."

Elle rolls her eyes. "Can we wait a couple of years, at least?"

"Maybe, _jetti'ka_

They see Garda's eyes. "There is more, isn't there?" Elle says at his look.

"She has, for a lack of a better word, a tiny bit of prescience. She is able to predict things about a second or two in advance. No fortune-telling, or anything, but she will make a helluva pilot--especially with her reflexes."

Elle and Drop digest that. "What about strength?" Jedi asks.

"Little higher than normal." Showim nods to them and leaves. They both look in on the girl. Their daughter. A product of science gone wrong, but theirs. Theirs to mold and shape. To love.

Without a word, as Garda has taken up position next to her bed, they turn and walk out.

XXXXX

Their soft cries split the air of the Jedi's quarters. Elle is careful to keep her shields in place as they build to their finish. Elle's fingernails score his back as his customary gentle thrusts push them both over the edge.

Elle smiles as she tries to bring her breathing under control. The smile grows as she feels the warmth of his finish inside of her.

They collapse on their sides, still connected.

She senses sadness in Drop. "What, love?" she asks as her brow furrows.

"Nothing, dear." he says, his eyes downcast.

"Come on, hardhead. You can tell me anything. You should know that, by now," she says gently.

"It's just that after seeing her...." He gather himself. She waits patiently. "I wish that I could start life in you when I do that."

She hugs him as tightly as she ever has. "Oh, Drop..."

She gasps as his mouth closes on her breast. A beeping noise comes from the floor next to the pallet.

He draws his mouth away. His command comm demands attention. As Sergeant-Major of a battalion, he has been given one.

He curses.

She waves a hand at the comm.

A wizened figure displays above the device. Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.

"Execute Order 66."

Drop starts. He looks at Elle, his eyes wide. "What the hell is Order 66, Drop?" Elle asks.

He gets to his feet. "Can't be anything good. I don't know exactly what it means. He jumps up and grabs his bodysuit. "We need to get to Talle."

As they begin to dress, an explosion rocks the Temple.

_Zero._


	12. 11. And silently stab the white eyes of misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Order 66.
> 
> A family tries to stay together.
> 
> Warnings for violence.

**Coruscant**  
**GAR Barracks**  
**Empire Day 0**

One of the last remaining Alphas on the Grand Army of the Republic rolls, stands next to the Chancellor. He watches as the old man, disfigured by his fight with the traitorous Jedi Masters, speaks into a specially designed comm. He waits to report on the progress of Alphas that had never been on GAR rolls.

He can feel the programming take over as the Chancellor intones to the Marshal Commanders and battalion commanders, "Execute Order 66."

As the Commander of the elite Deathtroopers, the handful of Alphas who had been dispatched to certain chokepoints for Action prior to the Order, Alpha-17 salutes as the Chancellor turns to him.

"Report, Commander."

His face is expressionless as he complies. "All of our Action units have been dispatched over the last month." He takes a breath. "All have been destroyed or defeated."

"Not a good testament to the usefulness of the class, Commander," the reptilian voice says. "What about the Jedi on Kamino?" Palpatine asks.

"We have dispatched one last team to supplement the ones who were defeated at the hands of suspicious Jedi and Mandalorians. I ordered them to arrest Ti for interrogation four hours ago, so that we could root out how she was able to anticipate the Alpha's moves. I have not heard from them."

"What about Corellia and Project Replica?"

Seventeen grits his teeth. He is about to reply, when the Chancellor speaks. "Your hesitation speaks volumes, Commander," Palpatine says. He turns to the red trimmed Commander at his side. "Commander, secure the planet. My apprentice will take his legion to attack the nest of traitors at the Jedi Temple. To wipe them out."

His yellow gaze turns on Seventeen. "You will remain here, Commander. You will continue to coordinate the Actions." Seventeen feels a slight pressure on his throat. "Your efficiency, in light of your failures, in this matter, will determine how that meeting goes for you."

Alpha-17 burns with hatred at the Jedi. All of his hatred focuses on two in particular.

A Jedi Master on Kamino and her former Padawan, reported dead on the Wookiee planet.

His vision goes scarlet as he thinks of them.

 **Coruscant**  
**Jedi Temple Healer's Wing**  
**Isolation Ward**

**Empire Day**

Drop rushes into the ward, close on the heels of his Jedi. Showim is there with Talle. His eyes are grim as he sees Drop. His hand goes to his lightsaber; but it falls as Elle pulls hers.

Che walks into the room. She, too, starts at Drop in his full armor. "What the hell is going on, clone?" she asks, the tiny bit of civility she possesses gone in the situation. "You tell me, _jetti_ and we'll both know."

"Clones are marching on the Temple. There has already been fighting with the Temple guardians in the outer precincts." Her eyes sharpen even more. "Reports are that the clones don't seem to be under their own control."

"Well, you can ask Elle. I seem to be under control. I am just as dumb as you are about this. I can't even figure out what the hell 'Order 66' is."

Vokara Che looks at Elle, her lekku twitching in anger. "Cin is trying to organize a defense. You'll be needed, Elle."

Drop's temper flares. "No hell, she won't," he says. "She is coming with me and our child."

If Che is surprised by the statement, she doesn't show it. She looks at Elle and nods. She turns to walk to the outer ward. She knows that she will be needed.

Elle turns to Drop. "She's right, Drop. My duty lies to protect the Temple."

She can see the protest building. She kisses him to still the protest. "I have to defend this place. It is the only way to give you and Talle a chance."

"No, sweetie. It is my place to fight for my Jedi. For all of you."

"No, Drop. I don't think that it is." She smiles at him. "The fact that you have no chip. That you seem not to take to the programming, or whatever it is, it is not your place."

"Even the other Nulls could be controlled, at least by the personality of Skirata. You couldn't be controlled. You are your own man."

Her eyes fall. He can see the tears in them. Through his own. She chokes. "It is not just the recalcitrance, the disobedience. You are independent in your love and compassion, as well. I think there might have been an incident where you didn't kill someone or act like another Null back then."

"I know your compassion. You will be the edge for survival for our little girl."

He shakes his head violently. "No. I can fight with you..." She shoves him gently towards the little girl's bed. "No, you can't. The Jedi would be most likely to kill you, as well."

"No, Elle, love..." She steels herself. She makes her decision. She grabs his datapad, hanging from his armor's belt. She punches a few buttons and replaces it. A route is displayed on the screen.

"This is a route to the old, unused escape tunnels. I used to play in them as a youngling. There is access to them down the hall." His eyes soften as she walks to the bed. She lifts the girl, who is coming awake, into her arms. She kisses her awake. "Talle, my love. Go with your _Buir_. He will keep you safe."

Talle senses their distress as Elle helps her dress. She is soon crying. "Shh, little one. It will be alright. _Buir_ will not let anyone hurt you."

"Take her, Drop. You have to. Showim can help you...."

She looks around. Her face grows angry. "Where the hell is he?"

Showim is nowhere to be found. "Goddammit," Elle curses. "Just when we could use him."

Drop smiles at her fierceness. He lifts Talle into his arms and swings her up to his neck. She instinctively places her arms around his neck, gently. "Never mind, Elle. We don't need him."

He grabs his bucket with one hand and his carbine with the other. A small pack goes on his back.

He looks at Elle. A man who never had trouble finding words, especially in a sarcastic comment, is silent as he looks at her. As if memorizing her face.

Tears spill down their faces; they mingle as their lips join. Drop slings his weapon and helmet. His hands go to her face.

They stand there drinking each other in. She places her hands on his chest. "You are my life, Drop. You saved me. I would've gladly died after Geonosis. But you saved me."

"My love," he starts. "My heart," using a word he has heard from a Zeltron.

She shoves him away with the hands on his chest. Talle starts screaming. " _Buir!_ No!"

The only words she knows. "No, sweetie," the Jedi says. "Take her," she says, closing her eyes.

Her trooper dons his helmet. "I love you, Elle Jaquindo."

Elle smiles. "I'll be right behind you, loves."

As he leaves the room, he wonders if he actually believes her.

She wonders the same, as she wipes her tears. She looks in the mirror, seeing her eyes clear. She touches the mystical energy field that is her birthright.

She feels nothing but pain. Death. Death of Jedi. Of clones. Her Force sense doesn't seem to extend further than the confines of the Temple.

She closes her mind to the pain. As she does, she experiences a wave of darkness. Darkness separate from the pain and death.

A wave of darkness as she has never experienced before. A wave of fear. Of pain and anger.

She steels herself. She sees a wave of calm flow over her features. Of love, as she thinks of her Null and the little girl on his shoulders.

Her own pain, her own sadness flows out of her. Only love is present as she prepares to defend her own.

Her home. Her family. In her mind, she is invincible against the darkness that she feels. She will defend.

She will fight the darkness as her first Master taught her. Her mind jumps to another Master's face. She sees the serene huntress in her mind's eye. Smiling encouragingly as she teaches her to overcome her pain and her injury.

Of learning to live and fight again under Ti's tutelage. She smiles as she thinks of the other Padawan of that huntress. A hunter in his own right. A Jedi, whose snark and sarcasm, as well as his propensity for more _worldly pursuits,_ belied his loving nature as a patient teacher, following in his Master's footsteps.

A man still finding his own path.

Elle Jaquindo, Jedi Knight, shakes the memories away with a physical shake of her head. She draws her saber and walks out of the place of healing.

XXXXX

Garda Showim runs to another part of the healer's wing. A door that the Jedi Council thought was locked to him. He approaches the door; hoping that the fail-safe he left in the locking mechanism is still present.

A fail-safe that he had innocently learned from another former Jedi. A Jedi who left unwillingly as well.

He stands in front of the door. He can already hear blasterfire and lightsaber strikes in the Temple. Even without a connection to the Force, he can hear screams and smell ozone.

Many of those voices sound impossibly young. He takes a deep breath and touches the locking mechanism in a certain pattern.

He can hear the mechanism turning. After a moment, the door snaps open. He walks in. Showim can smell the dust in the small storage closet. He closes his eyes and remembers. He walks forward, igniting his lightsaber. A quick swing and a small cabinet is open. He sees his objectives.

Two small inhaling devices. Two syringes marked with red warning labels. Labels that speak of harsh penalties for their use from the Jedi Council.

Another two syringes marked for destruction. Levels of dosage marked on it. The lowest level marked with the words, 'one day.'

The highest is marked 'one year.'

He seizes them all and places them in a belt pouch. He seizes a healer's kit marked 'Offee' and slings it.

He turns and runs from the room. _You need to hide. Those three will need you,_ he tells himself. He fights the voice that says _Run._

XXXXX

Drop runs through the tunnels. The girl on his shoulders is quiet, except for occasional sobs. _I know the feeling, sweetie,_ he thinks. He had managed to get to the tunnels with little hindrance. Of course the fact that he had found a very large Jedi's cloak to put over his armor helped.

That and most other Jedi he had encountered were busy with their own problems.

Drop's heart hurts as he runs. He see's Elle's face in his mind; as he had last seen her in his arms. _Some trooper,_ he thinks. _Leave your Jedi behind. Leave your love behind._

He shakes his head as the warm weight on his shoulders; the tiny hands grasping the bottom of his bucket, gently as if afraid to distract him.

He can feel the strength in her tiny hands, her small arms. He allows himself a moment of pride at that.

But more, he feels pride at her calm. Her serenity. Her ability to overcome what has been thrown at her in her short life.

 _That certainly didn't come from me._ He sees the calm smile from a bronze face. A face with a shining jewel in the forehead. A jewel whose brightness is dimmed next to royal-blue eyes and another smile reserved for him.

A face that was only not calm when they were both in the throes of passion.

He slows as he hears voices ahead. Voices modulated, but similar to his. He stops and brings up the map on the HUD that Elle had uploaded to his datapad. His brow darkens behind the T-visor.

They are drawing closer. He only has a few moments to make a decision.

He glances to the left and up. He sees an alcove. An alcove with a tube above it and a ladder. The alcove is sheltered with a half-wall concealing the opening. He sends a quick text. A text that he had already prepared on the run.

He pulls Talle from his shoulders. He lifts his _buy'ce_ and smiles at her. "My little trooper, I need you to do something for both of your _buir'e_." She looks at him, her eyes wide. He can see the wheels turning. She finally nods. "Yes, _buir_."

He hugs her to him. He places his bucket on her head. It is too large, but his eyes widen as he sees her hand automatically move to the controls that adjust the cowl.

He looks at her. He smiles. "Well, done, trooper." He pushes a button on his gauntlet. His earpiece can hear a slight tone from the helmet. He lifts the bucket for a moment. He kisses his daughter. "Here is what need you to do. I need you to listen to your bucket. When you hear that sound that you just heard; climb all the way to the top. I am hoping that your other _buir_ will be at the top." He smiles and kisses her. She seizes his neck tightly. He whispers in her tiny ear. "It could be the creepy man, _ad'ika_ ," he finishes. She giggles at that. "So be ready. Go now."

He pushes her up the ladder.

Drop, once known by a number, a number he has just abandoned forever, except as the root for a new name, watches his daughter climb into the sheltered alcove. He waits until he can no longer see her, as she swings into another tiny crevasse halfway up.

He unslings the two packs from his back. He looks at the tunnel. It is very deep. He picks up his DC-15S and turns towards the way that he and one of his loves came.

To hopefully buy time for all of them.

XXXXX

Elle Jaquindo runs towards explosions near the entrance. She can hear blasterfire increasing, as well as lightsaber clashes.

Not lightsabers clashing with armor, but with another lightsaber.

She has already had to steel herself and cut down clone troopers who had attacked her. Troopers bearing the coloring of Drop's new battalion.

The 501st.

She turns a corner.

And comes almost face-to-face with a dark figure. A dark figure holding a blue lightsaber.

The figure is tall and she feels like she should know him.

This is the source of the pain, fear, and darkness she had felt earlier. A feeling that had built as she fought the troopers.

Even affecting the troopers. She knew how the troopers felt in the Force, as any being would. She probably more than other Jedi.

She felt almost nothing from these men.

She could hear a murmur coming through her Force sense; almost reverberating throughout the Temple.

_Good soldiers follow orders._

She gets a brief glimpse of the dark figure's face under the hood. She can get no clear image, only yellow, ocherous eyes blazing with anger.

Only a glimpse before the figure is swinging the saber at her. She is forced back by a rain of powerful blows from the tall figure. She parries as best she can; as the figure points at pieces of debris.

She is inundated by debris. She cannot parry it and the lightsaber blows.

Elle manages to keep the debris from striking her head. As she parries the blows, her mind flies back to two places and times in her life.

To a sandy arena in her first battle. Two friends and lovers lie in the dirt. Two different sets of blue eyes open and staring as their blood spills in the sand. Of a lekku that she had once remembered kissing, along with two other Padawans, lying separated from its owner's head.

Of her left arm lying next to her friends. Of their Masters lying dead between them and harm.

The first time that she thought that she was going to die.

Of a time only a year or so later, on the Separatist capital planet. She and that hunter, Taliesin Croft, standing next to her; preparing to die in defense of friends, lovers, and brothers.

Against another dark figure. An ancient former Jedi Master who had already employed Force lightning against two innocents.

Only the timely intervention of a young naval officer and her crew, as well as a old frigate that was almost a living entity in their consciousnesses, had saved their lives.

Both the Sith Lord and the young naval officer had died in the skies above this planet only a few days before.

She had been forced to miss the officer's memorial service in order to respond to a lead about her daughter.

A naval officer who was another who had saved her after that first battle claimed her arm, her friends, and her will to live. By patience, understanding, and a bit of asskicking.

For the third time in her life, she felt that she was about to die.

She sees two faces in her mind. She has more to fight for, this time.

She parries one last time and begins to swing her saber at her opponent. Forcing him back. She knows that it is a momentary respite; that she is flagging against the strikes and the debris.

She continues to fight. To swing. To advance.

For her loves. She smiles. For her _attachments._

Her world's light explodes as the blue lightsaber lances into her side. Pain erupts as she feels the blade penetrate her lower torso, near her stomach.

And slice outward.

As she falls, she can only think of two faces. _I am sorry, my loves._

She rests on her knees as the pain overcomes. She holds the wound as tightly as she can. She can see the lightsaber start to swing downwards.

Another blade. The blade of a feared warrior parries it before it can strike. Before it can take her head.

Cin Drallig. Temple Battlemaster and Master of the Saber moves backwards, swinging at the dark one.

The dark one ignores her to concentrate on Drallig. She tries to rise, but can't. She looks down at the wound in her side. She grimaces as she sees the damage; the bloody, singed mess.

She sees a face looking at her.

_Come on jett'ika. It's time to get up. Live for us. You don't have to die for us._

She falls down to her opposite side. She clinches her teeth against the fire. She begins to slide along the floor. To another room. She calls her lightsaber to her.

Elle Jaquindo feels another's power surge through her. Not a Force power - or anything mystical.

Only love. She smiles, even with the blood coming from her lips.

XXXXX

Trooper Riddle is horrified. He feels the programming overlay his brain. His will. He is horrified as he looks at his brothers. The brothers of his squad, who had survived his latest stint on the hell that was Z'ambique.

"Rust, what is going on? What is happening?" he asks frantically. Rust doesn't answer

He, Bev, even the mouthy, cheerful shiny Slate seem to be marching as automatons. Tyke, recently promoted to Sergeant, leads them in their march.

He realizes that he is marching as well. He watches Bev, his brother, the singer and musician, raise his blaster and kill a Jedi senior Padawan without a second glance. Before the young one can bring his saber to bear.

Bev is not the only one. He feels the recoil of his own blaster and sees a young Togruta girl fall. He immediately thinks of the young Commander on First Z'ambique. The one who had proven herself in command of the recovery of the wounded. Who had made sure that his brothers were taken care of before rushing back to save their own commander, soon to be a General.

As well as dozens of other brothers.

He finds that he cannot recall her face. Only the one that he has just slaughtered. Even younger than she.

The backup Commander, Tang, another veteran of the 332nd, walks up to them. "Sergeant Tyke. You and the remainder of your squad follow me. We have heard reports of activity in some tunnels. We have found the exit. Take your squad and follow me there. We will sweep back towards the Temple and execute any Jedi trying to escape."

Riddle sees Tyke nod without question. Tang, a brother who had gained the trust of the first General of the 332nd, leads them. _What are you doing, Tang? General Ti made you. Croft made sure that you were promoted._

Questions are on Riddle's mind as he follows the orders.

Without hesitation. _Good soldiers follow orders._

XXXXX

A cloaked figure creeps towards a corridor. He is careful not to call attention to himself. Any Force-sensitive in the area would not be able to find him. He gave up the privilege and the burden years ago.

It may save his life now. He moves from corpse to corpse of the flower of the Jedi Order in the hallway. Cut down by lightsabers and by blasterfire. Blasterfire from men who would have died for them only the day before. He had seen the methodical frenzy of blood and slaughter.

He comes to the figure he was looking for. Elle Jaquindo lies on her side. Her face is peaceful. He pulls her over onto her back and checks her. The wound on her right side is horrific. He can just detect breath. Her pulse is weak. He sits next to her. Once again, he has a choice.

He is probably not on any rosters of the Jedi. Even the AgriCorps. The Jedi had been more than willing to sweep the monster in their midst out of history. He could run. He was canny enough of a survivor to never be caught.

He stops. He will not consider it.

He remembers the Code. The Code that had been his watchword for fifty years. Even the twisted tenets of it. He thinks of the the tenets of compassion of the healer's arts.

He again makes his choice. He opens the belt pouch. He pulls out the inhaler. He activates it and inhales before he can change his mind. He immediately feels the ancient, mystical companion.

He erects his shields. In his youth, he had debated following the Shadow path. His shield techniques had put him in the highest percentile, until he had decided to follow the Healer's path. The path of a scientist, as well. He looks down at the young Jedi.

He places his hands on the ruin of Elle's side. Showim smiles as he feels the Force flow through him, while remaining shielded. An ability almost unique to him. He can feel the energy flowing into the young Chalactan. His eyes widen as he senses something else.

He makes another choice. He pulls another device from the pouch.

One of the syringes with the dire warnings from the Jedi Council. A similar device had cost him his own status as a Jedi and made his power dependent on chemical resuscitation. He activates the syringe. He charges it to its fullest. He touches the syringe to the young woman's neck. One touch and it is emptied.

He pulls a scanner from purloined healer's kit. It shows that her vitals are elevated a bit, but stabilizing. The wound is healing.

He gingerly opens his shields. He smiles bitterly. She has no Force-signature. He doesn't see the smashed comm on the young woman's wrist.

He quickly bandages the remainder of the wound with a large bacta pad. He hefts the young woman over his shoulder and as an afterthought, he pulls her lightsaber to him.

Garda Showim feels no remorse about the choice he has made. She lives.

The father is expendable, except to guard the child.

XXXXX

Riddle follows the others into the tunnel. His head aches with attempting to fight the noises in his head; the commands.

As hard as he fights, the programming has taken over. He wonders if his brothers--he had never let the Mandos imprint on him. He had never allowed himself to use the Mando'a term for the other clones. _Although, he may have slipped the second time on Z'ambique._

The clones ahead of him suddenly stop.

Standing in front of them, blocking their progress, is a face he has come to curse from his time in the 332nd.

Null-13. Known as Drop. Sergeant-Major of the 501st.

A lazy, underachieving clone like Riddle's worst nightmare.

Tang speaks. "What are you doing down here, Drop?" he asks. "Doing what all of you should be doing." Drop replies.

"What is that?" the young Commander asks. "Saving the Jedi," the large clone says.

The murmur that Riddle has heard from his fellow troopers and his own mind starts up again. _Good soldiers follow orders._

Tang smiles behind his bucket. "As you can tell, these brothers will follow orders. Stand aside, Drop and I won't have you shot for insubordination."

The Null smiles. "Without the Jedi, three or four in particular, my life isn't worth a damn. Can't do that, Tang."

Tang's voice rises. "Drop, you were the finest soldier I have ever known. Don't make me kill you."

Drop smiles. "It'll be hard to do wearing a tunnel."

Riddle's eyes widen as he sees Drop punch a toggle on his gauntlet.

The tunnel explodes around him. The last thing Riddle sees as the tunnel collapses on he and his brothers is Drop's look of sadness between the explosions of the shaped charges.

His last thought is of his life. Not that it is ending, but that he is finally free. His last thought is one that he would never think. _Thanks, Drop._

XXXXX

 **Coruscant**  
**Empire Day plus one.**

Alpha-17 stands in the anteroom of the Senate. He is watching the Chancellor ready his speech to the politicians. A speech that will outline the crimes of the Jedi. He hears Mas Amedda call the Senate to order.

He walks into the chamber. He is awaiting a report from Kamino on the Jedi traitor Shaak Ti.

It will be done. The Jedi will be extinct.

XXXXX

An exceptionally large figure in a dark cloak makes his way stealthily through the lower levels of Coruscant. A pair of amber eyes stare out at the universe, from beneath a blue and red pilgrim's hood. A bright black jewel, a symbol of mourning on a spiritual world, is attached to his forehead.

A small child, dressed as he is, rides his shoulders. Occasionally tears flow from her eyes and soft sobs escape her mouth.

His eyes are wary, rather than spiritual. His earpiece reverberates with calls that the Jedi have been executed for their crimes. Even the younglings. He thinks of his Jedi.

Of his heart.

His holds an instrument of destruction under his cloak rather than spirituality. He refrains from using it. _For now._

No tears fall from his eyes.

He has none left.


	13. 12. Like spears into the swollen night.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud
> 
> A fog has destroyed the world so gently.  
> Bloodless trees dissolve in smoke.  
> And shadows hover where shrieks are heard.  
> Burning beasts evaporate like breath.
> 
> Captured flies are the gas lanterns.  
> And each flickers, still attempting to escape.  
> But to one side, high in the distance, the poisonous moon,  
> The fat fog-spider, lies in wait, smoldering.
> 
> We, however, loathsome, suited for death,  
> Trample along, crunching this desert splendor.  
> And silently stab the white eyes of misery  
> Like spears into the swollen night. 
> 
> Alfred Lichtenstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Merfilly to the names and stories of Ti's Padawans, adapted to this 'verse.

**Kamino**  
**Tipoca City**  
**Empire Day minus 2 hours**

Shaak Ti attempts to meditate as the early morning hours pass slowly. The darkness that she had been sensing in the Force had seemed to be the most prevalent in the early morning light of the rainy season.

Either that or the unquiet thoughts of her future. Of the growing pain from her affliction. Of the drastic measure she was contemplating taking to correct it.

To live, not free of pain, but free of the potential of that pain harming a loved one.

She smiles. As always when she contemplates; when she meditates; indeed, when she asks the Force for guidance; her mind's eye is drawn back to a pair of laughing eyes. Of purple turning to black as the young woman's face goes slack with abandon. Of those same black eyes streaming tears over the crimson skin of her cheeks when their hands were bound together with red and white silk in the grasslands of Ti's birthworld.

Of the smile of joy reserved for the Master in the rare times that they could be together.

The Master realizes that her breathing has increased; her heartrate, already rapid, is sounding a staccato beat. _You're not a youngling with a first crush any more, Master,_ she thinks, a smirk of her heritage flowing to her own red skin.

She centers herself in the Force. Her breathing returns to normal. _Strange, nowhere in the Force does anyone cry out against 'attachment.'_

As she centers herself, her mind pictures another of her 'attachments.' Taliesin Croft. Her powerful, mercurial, passionate accomplishment. A man who many had privately told her at the Temple in the first months of his apprenticeship that he would never be a Jedi; that he was unserious.

That he was too old. Or he was had been at the Temple for too short of a time.

She had chosen him when he was thirteen; the usual age for a Padawan. But the Council had denied her request.

_It has only been a year since Fe Sun died, Master Ti. It is too soon. You chose another Padawan too soon after Atti's death. We feel that you do not need to make the same mistake again._

Ki-adi Mundi did have the grace to look chagrined at his choice of words. But, the Cerean did not retract them. Ti had heard the murmurs. The murmurs about her own skills as a Master, having lost two Padawans before they could be raised to knights.

Windu had spoken next. _Croft is not ready to be a Padawan. He only has eight years in the Temple. We have already seen the trouble in allowing his compatriot Baldrick to be chosen. He is three years older than Croft._

_Never mind that Croft had higher scores than anyone in his age group. Never mind that Baldrick's Master had never been an exemplary Jedi; had never been allowed to take a Padawan until later after a lifetime as a scholar._

Her measured arguments had been met with silence. Later, in private, her arguments with Windu had been less measured.

All throughout the debate before the Council, Yoda had sat in silence, listening, his hands resting on his gimer stick.

That day had been one where she had returned to her empty apartments and had meditated for days trying to see guidance.

Guidance as to whether she would stay in the Order, or return to Shili.

The guidance had come in the form of a small green being who had intruded on her meditation.

Yoda had floated in on his hover chair, after grudging permission was granted. She remembers the conversation clearly as it had granted her a lifeline as if she had been drowning.

"Believe you ready, young Croft is?" he had asked without pleasantries. "Yes, Master. I do. He is so inquisitive. Not asking questions, but going to find the answer himself." She smiles. "Sometimes to the detriment of his health."

"Yes. Propensity for injury, he has," the ancient Master says with a smirk. A smirk that both of them share as they think of a small youngling scaling whatever obstacles that were placed in his way.

"Go against the Council's will, I cannot. Unanimous, Council decisions are."

There seems to be something wrong with one of the wizened little creature's eyes, as it lowers by itself.

"If a skilled Knight decides that spend more time with one Initiate than with others, the business of that Knight it is. If that business takes the skilled young Knight back to her homeworld for say, two years; spare, I believe the Temple could that inquisitive young Initiate as an assistant."

"Success, we saw, in certain tests for your late Padawans in your training regimen. Believe, I do, in an expanded program for training in your Hunt-skills."

"Trust, I will, good use you make of these two years."

Ti had felt her heart leap at what the little troll was offering.

The beginning of the most rewarding, but challenging mentorship she had ever taken on. A challenge she had met in the skill and power of the Knight and person he had become.

It had not been easy; he had been of an almost opposite temperament of her previous Padawans. But his obstinacy and some would say--and they had-- _insubordinate_ demeanor had been born of a grim determination to stop those same murmurs about her skills as Master.

Some he had stopped among his age group with hand-to-hand combat instruction.

She smiles as she thinks of his own mentorship of younglings and Initiates. His patient teaching, coupled with respect for his charges had given many Knights skilled and intelligent Padawans. The smile falters as she thinks of the most powerful of those. A young woman who had been paired with another mercurial Knight, the Chosen One. Anakin Skywalker, the Hero without Fear.

She shakes the emotions away. She smiles again at the revelations of the deepening of Taliesin and Ahsoka's relationship. A secret smile had been on her serene countenance, all through the debates over whether her fierce young huntress should assist and then lead the insurgent forces on Mandalore. Even after her work in the depths of the Coruscant when dark forces had conspired to kidnap Yoda.

Even after enduring Force lightning through a closed door to seal the holocron vault against what was most certainly the powerful Sith Lord that had been the Order's primary opponent.

She thinks of the emotions playing through the unsevered training bond that she had been able to officially establish after those two years were up.

_He is probably paying me back for some he might have felt from me in the last three years or so._

On a whim, she reaches out to him in that bond. If he does leave the Order, she may defy the Council again to maintain the link with him. To enjoy that bright, inquisitive, mind enriching her own thoughts, even as they challenged her.

_Strange._ His Force-sense, normally a strong presence in her mind, is almost--intermittent. She reaches out further. She recalls a quick thought that she had received from him. An almost cryptic aside, as if he was preoccupied. _Don't believe everything you hear._

Ti is suddenly aware of activity surrounding her quarters. She comes fully alert and pulls herself to her feet. She tests her legs. _Only a little pain._ As she stands, she notices that her comm's message light is blinking. She shakes her head; no telling how long that message has been waiting. Communications to this part of the galaxy; especially to Kamino have always been spotty at best. In the last two months; the lines of communication between she and Coruscant had been growing steadily worse.

_In more ways than one,_ she thinks. Her violet eyes narrow, as the thinks of the last conversation she had with Mace over the clones and the conspiracy that she seemed to be fumbling around.

He had been even more bantha-ish than usual. She pushes thoughts of the Korun Master away.

She busies herself by checking the screen of her comm; a comm text from her fellow Master, Luminara Unduli. A cryptic message. _Call me before you check the bulletins._ It was dated three days ago, from Kashyyyk.

Where Taliesin was headed. She keeps her breathing under control as she remembers his admonition. _Don't believe everything you hear._

She pushes thoughts of her Padawan away, as the tiny bits of Force-signatures around her quarters become more focused. They are the Force-signatures of the _Vod'e_ , as familiar to her now as her own line's

But, somehow different. More intense. As if moving towards a darker purpose.

She picks up her lightsaber and walks closer to the door. Her eyes widen at the four signatures around her quarters. She pats her right thigh, making sure that her hunting knife is present. She opens a small panel on the leg of her skirt, so that the blade is accessible.

She ignites her saber and opens the door. Before she can take two steps, her saber has deflected a blaster bolt back into the face of a large clone. Not as large as Drop, but larger than the late Pal.

Three more sets of blaster bolts travel towards her. She bares her teeth in a predator's grin. The three clones barely have time to register their fear at the devilish grin.

Before they join their fellow on the deck.

Her smile fades. She opens herself to the Force. As she does, she is assailed by darkness. She cannot pinpoint the location. She narrows her focus to the city. _There._ No darkness, but more Alphas. Alphas with the same twisted Force signature.

In a corridor near the Jedi landing platform. She sheathes her saber and begins to run.

As she reaches the landing platform, she hears a cry of pain. A young voice. A voice of one of her _ad._

" _Buir Ti_ ," the voice screams. She turns towards the voice. As she does, she is a split second late bringing her lightsaber up.

A blaster bolt strikes her full on her left side. She is knocked back but maintains her feet. She is able to block the fusillade of bolts, one-handed back from two Alphas near her. She holds tightly to her side.

There is no sign of the young clone.

Ti retreats into a side room; a communications hub for visiting Jedi. With the special communications that only members of the Order use. She manages to secure the door. She slumps in a chair in front of the console and checks her wound.

The pain begins to build in her right montral and shoot down her right side, opposite the wound.

With the pain, comes clarity, as the darkness coalesces around her. She senses that the Jedi Order; the only life she has ever known is about to die.

Just as she is. She makes her decision. She opens a pouch on her belt and pulls out a strangely shaped, beautiful object.

An object as familiar to her as her lightsaber. She remembers using this object to teach her apprentices. The joy of knowledge and discovery on all of their faces. She pushes the images away.

She rises and musters herself against the pain of her wound and of her heritage. The pain of impending doom for her people and her way of life. She sets the holocron down and begins to record.

"Whoever is seeing this, it's up to you now." Her eyes tear as she hopes of who will see this. At least the second part of this message. "Don't let our deaths have been in vain."

She hears the door contract with blaster fire. "Don't let this be the end of the Jedi."

Shaak Ti manipulates the holocron; securing it.

She steels herself to record another message. "Taliesin, my son."

This message is sent into the Force, as well as copy of the holocron's knowledge.

To a specific holocron. It could be instantaneous; it could take millennia. But if the holocron is safe; it will link with her message.

As she completes this message, the door bursts inward. She turns and calls her lightsaber to her.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti strikes first one then then the other Alphas. Limbs and blasters fall. While busying herself with the first two, a wave of pain strikes again. She looks up to a blinding azure concentric ring in the center of her vision. Again and again.

The Alpha; one of only two remaining in this particular cell, surveys the debris of the fight. Of the Jedi Master lying on the floor. He motions to a young clone; one barely out of training. "Get some of your brothers. Pick her up and bring her to the platform."

"But, sir, she is a Jedi..."

"Quiet, Cadet. I have evidence that she is a traitor to the Republic. We will probably be receiving more orders, but we need to interrogate her." The Alpha Captain softens. "I know this will be hard, Cadet, but you have been trained well. Prepare yourself.

_Yes, I have,_ the Cadet thinks. _By the woman laying on the deck._

He motions to other troopers. He picks up the lightsaber. He steels himself against the darkness.

XXXXX

Ti can feel herself regaining consciousness. She is held in the grip of another Alpha and another young cadet. The senior trooper looks at her, his helmet off.

"Master Shaak Ti. We have evidence that you are traitor to the Chancellor, and therefore the Republic. A crime punishable by death. We saw that you recorded something on a device. A device known to be used by Jedi for traitorous secrets. Our techs are working on opening it, but you will spare yourself a great deal of pain if you open it for us."

Ti smiles. "Treason against one man does not constitute treason against the state. Especially if that man is acting in an extralegal manner." She looks at the officer. "Jedi Holocrons are used for knowledge for and by Jedi. We are protected by statute as an independent body of the Republic. I am also a General in the Grand Army of the Republic. If you have evidence of wrongdoing, it can be presented at my trial. A trial overseen by the Jedi."

The officer sneers. "We have seen how well Jedi trials work. Even one where the Jedi has been expelled. The little Togruta snot escaped justice at the hands of a clone firing squad."

Ti continues to smile serenely. "That, Captain, is a matter of opinion. One upheld by law and a legal trial."

"No matter. Tell us how to open the device. Or I will visit unimaginable pain on you."

At that, he jams his fist into the wound on her side.

Ti staggers and grimaces, but within two seconds, her face composes itself to its serenity. Her smile grows. "Captain, I have lived with pain for several years now. Plus, I am a Jedi Master. There will be little that you can do."

"Then perhaps your usefulness is at an end, Togruta."

There is a murmur from the other troopers around. She can sense their presences changing. She feels as if their consciousnesses are leaving their bodies.

The murmur takes definition. _Good soldiers follow orders._

The Captain's holocomm opens. A hooded figure with a reptilian voice that is somehow familiar speaks. "The time has come, Captain. Execute Order 66."

The Alpha turns towards Ti. His own will subdued.

"We don't need to do this, brothers." says a voice from the outer edge of the deck. Ti smiles as she hears the voice. Even through the modulated helmet speaker, she knows that voice as well as her own.

_Having spent so much time laughing, teaching, and learning with that voice._ Her face falls as she looks at the odds.

As pain and darkness grows in the Force, she can start to feel hundreds of deaths. She pushes the pain to the back of her mind; concentrating on her bond with him. A bond that is as spotty as the communications to the Council.

She sees him grimace as her pain, in close proximity is amplified. The pain of the other Jedi inundates him as well.

She sees him stand and look at the Alpha. "We don't have to do this, brothers," he repeats. He grasps, trying to distract the clones.

The Alpha repeats the mantra that she had heard from other clones since the transmission. "Yes, we do, brother. _Good soldiers follow orders. All Jedi are traitors."_

Ti closes her eyes. _It is no use, my Padawan. They will not be swayed. I need you to listen to me. I need you to save yourself._

_No, Master,_ comes the pained words in her mind. _I can save you. Get ready._

She can feel the desperation in the bond. _No, my son. You can't._ Her own emotions overwhelm, as she touches the jewel at her middle. The laughing purple-black eyes swell in her mind's eye. She sends a vision to him. _It is my time, Taliesin._ She can feel the protests building. She shakes her eyes against the tears blurring her vision.

_I am so proud of you, my apprentice. You amaze me at the man and the Jedi you have become. I see it reflected in your Padawan._ Her mind chokes. _In Ahsoka. You are so powerful and compassionate._

She can sense his own tears building under the helmet. _I have always loved you, Taliesin. I have always been proud of you. Find your path. Find my fierce little huntress. Find your love. No matter where it takes you._

She can see his face; imagined behind the mask. _Tell Dani,_ her mind says. _Tell Dani that I will always love her. No matter where I am. Tell her that. Tell her to live her life and that I will find her._

She can sense the troopers' agitation growing at the silence. She makes her choice. She senses the Alpha lifting his blaster.

She moves. She forgets all of the pain. The pain of her wound. The pain of her affliction. The pain of loss resonating in the Force. The loss of Atti and Fe Sun.

She focuses on the love. The joy. The joy of seeing Taliesin and later, Elle growing and being knighted. Becoming powerful, compassionate Jedi and people. She focuses on the love of her heart-bond. The love that she was able to experience. The beauty, both inside and out, that was Daaineran Faygan

As Dani's face swells in her vision, she has an epiphany. Something that she has suspected her entire life as a Jedi, with all of the Order's strictures, indeed, its _obsession_ against attachment. Everything she has ever done. The way in which she has done it. For her apprentices, for the beings that she had helped as a Jedi. The way she had lived her life.

Everything she had done was out of love. Not just compassion. Something Dani had tried to show her since they had been together.

Master Shaak Ti smiles.

She moves. She wrests her left hand away from the Alpha holding her and manages to pull the hunting knife of her culture. The knife grows out of the side of the trooper's neck under the bottom of the helmet. She pushes the other clone away with her birthright. She looks for the young cadet with her saber.

She hears the snap-hiss of the saber igniting. She knows she has failed as she feels the heat of the tip between her shoulder blades.

Her last thought as the saber--the saber she had lovingly constructed as a youngling, pierces her back and her heart, is of Dani's smiling face. As she falls, she hears Taliesin's bellow of rage. _You saved me,_ she sends to him, and to hopefully all of her loves. As her vision fails, she feels the cold metal of a blaster against her temple.

A moment of heat. Of pain, and the pain is gone. There is only warmth and love in its place.

**Corellia**

Draq' Bel Iblis turns as he hears a scream emanate from another room. As he rushes into the room, he sees his daughter sliding down the wall, her arms clutching her middle. Clutching a jewel at her waist.

Racking sobs penetrate his consciousness as he rushes towards her. He can only seize her arms as the screams grow louder.

_As her universe dies._

**Kamino**

Croft screams as he sees the Alpha pull his blaster away from Ti's head. Croft opens fire and charges the group of clones around his Master's body. His fire is accurate. As he comes within two meters of them, he is hit by a wave of pain in his head.

He hears thousands of more screams in the Force. He shakes his head, but stumbles. He steels himself and continues to advance. Through the haze of pain, he can see that several troopers have fallen to his rapid fire.

The younger clone with the lightsaber swings it clumsily. He manages to strike upward and split Croft's blaster.

As well as strike the forehead of Croft's commando helmet. He feels a lancing fire as the tiniest part of the tip scores his forehead though the bucket. The clone swings wildly and closes with Croft. The tip strikes across his forehead again, once, twice in the frantic swinging. He has already dropped the ruined blaster; both of his hands have seized the clone's hands grasping the saber. He starts to squeeze and struggles to twist the saber from the trooper's hands.

Another trooper, afraid of hitting his brother swings a riot-control baton at Croft's left leg. The leg starts to fold; Croft regains his footing. As he does so, the clone manages to break free and thrust the saber at the Jedi.

Croft's universe lights up as his Master's blade--the blade that he had faced many times in spar and training, thrusts into his right hip.

Through and through. Croft manages to trap the dominant arm of the trooper under his arm. He backs himself off of the blade, every nerve ending screaming.

He closes his eyes for a brief second and seizes the wrist. He forces the wrist back at an unnatural angle. The young clone screams as the wrist snaps. The saber is free.

And finds itself buried in the eye socket of the trooper's helmet. Croft swings the blade out of the side of the dead clone's head and reverses it into the chest of his friend with riot control baton, who is perplexed as to why he can't move for one second before the blade is buried in his chest.

Croft brings the blade up and deflects the bolt fired at him by the Alpha Captain into the blaster. The Alpha laughs. "Should've known that a normal would betray his brothers. Well, little normal, you're going to die. You are outnumbered, by loyal brothers. Brothers who will follow their training and conditioning, rather than be drawn in by the traitorous Jedi like this bitch here--."

His words die on his lips as Croft slices him diagonally in half.

Taliesin Croft falls to his knees before the body of his Master. His Mother-of-the-Hunt. He hangs the lightsaber on his belt and removes his bucket. He gently rolls her over on her back, so that the head wound is out of his view.

Her violet eyes--those eyes that had encouraged him, corrected him, and had shown such pride in him are open and staring.

Her lips are smiling. The same smile he had always seen when she was proud of one of his accomplishments or the overcoming of a challenge.

He notices that her right hand is clutching something. Something under her slightly raised top. He looks closer. Her hand encircles a small piece of red, green, and gold amber, hanging from a gold chain around her slim waist.

He had never seen the adornment before

He instinctively knows it had something to do with Dani.

He pulls the top down over her hand and the jewel.

He reaches up and gently pulls the headdress from her forehead. The symbol of a skilled huntress on her world. A world she had shared with him when molding him. He kisses it and places it in a secure pouch on his belt.

He reaches down and closes her eyes. He touches his lips to her forehead. "Goodbye, Master. May you find peace in the Force," he whispers. "I will find you soon."

He can hear large numbers of footsteps advancing on the platform. He ignites his Master's saber and scoops up a DC-15S. He dons his bucket. Croft reaches out with the Force. He finds his connection intermittent. He redoubles his attempt. He visualizes the cameras on the platform. He senses the information flowing back to one drive. The camera and its drive explode.

He begins to advance. His only mission now is to kill as many clones as possible before he is cut down.

Taliesin Croft is already dead.

XXXXX

Gungi watches the city from the bow of the little skimmer. The skimmer that they had dropped his Master off at one of the lower brows so that he could find his Master. The young Padawan's head is splitting with pain, as he feels thousands of Jedi die at once.

He can no longer feel Master Ti. His Master's sense is spotty, like an intermittent beacon.

"What do you see, Fuzzy?" Adis asks, his hands moving nervously on the single gun.

_"Don't see him yet. Hard to feel him, either,"_

"We can't wait much longer, Gungi," Thorin says. "Every second we wait, is closer to our own necks in nooses."

His twin sister eyes the young Wookiee; the look of determination on his face. She ruffles the fur on his head. "Just a few more minutes, Thorin. Croft would wait for us." Thorin looks grim, but nods.

The four of them wait, bobbing in the ocean of a world that was going to hell.

XXXXX

The doors open. Clones rush towards Croft. He starts to advance. As he does, he hears a warm, accented voice speak in his head. The remnants of a fraying bond. A bond already torn from the other Padawan, a beautiful Chalactan. The voice speaks only three words. But the three words, coming from that voice, cut through him.

_No, Taliesin. Live._

He stops his advance; calls upon the Force. As he turns to live, he sees one trooper with a Z-6 heavy revolving blaster. The Force propels him forward in a sprint towards the edge, in spite of his wounded hip.

As he leaps, several bolts from the Z-6 strike his right shoulder, shredding it.

The dead man; the last Knight; falls through the air.

XXXXX

Thorin takes up the watch as well. He is about to instruct Adis to turn around and head to the ship, when Gungi starts hooting madly and pointing. Thorin brings up the macrobinoculars. He sees a figure falling. He knows that Gungi wouldn't sing out if it hadn't been his Master.

"Hit it, Thy. All ahead full." As he watches the man fall, his eyes widen as he sees the figure slow in midair and almost gently splash down. The skimmer covers the distance quickly. It circles where they had seen Croft go into the water.

Before anyone else can react, Gungi is in the water.

Blaster bolts begin to range from the platform. Thyla stands by the helm as Adis opens up with the mounted blaster. Thorin stands on the bow, searching for Master and Padawan. The bolts from the troopers come dangerously close.

"There!" he yells. He points to a wet furry head breaking the surface, dragging a burden behind him. Thyla brings the skimmer in. Thorin reaches over to pull them aboard. As Gungi and Thorin wrestle the figure aboard, a blaster bolt strikes Thorin in the back.

Thyla screams "No!" Gungi manages to pull Thorin aboard before he tumbles into the water. He turns Thorin over. Gungi can see that it is already too late, as the bolt went through the Twi'lek's body.

Right where the heart is located. As well as through the right lek.

Thyla is down by Thorin, sobbing and rocking him. Adis points at Gungi and the helm. The Wookiee looks back at Croft. He reaches back with the Force and pulls the bucket off. Croft is breathing, but his wounds threaten to push him to the Force.

Gungi turns and takes the helm, spinning them away from the city. As he does, he realizes that there are two skimmers pursuing them. On the lead craft, a figure stands with a long rifle in the bow. He aims at the skimmer.

The sniper fires. Gungi hears a cry behind him. He turns and sees Thyla clutching her face, blood streaming from her right eye. Adis abandons the gun and crouches by her. He pulls her hand away. A piece of metal protrudes directly from the eye. A piece of metal from the engine housing. The skimmer starts to slow, as smoke begins to billow from the engine.

"Well, this is going to be a short trip," Adis says. The two skimmers close on them.

And explode.

Gungi turns his attention back to the front from where he had been judging distance to the enemy.

Their home rises from the water. _Opportunity's_ turbolaser turrets continue to fire, A cargo hatch opens on the side. Gungi aims for it and they are soon ensconced in the ship.

The ship rises into the air. It turns and powers out of the atmosphere before anyone can lock onto it, broadcasting purloined Separatist ID signals all the way.

_A pirate's tricks._

Adis sits slumped against the transom of the skimmer. He looks at their casualties. At the sobbing, bleeding Twi'lek holding the body of her brother. Of the young Wookiee holding his Master.

He feels the hyperdrive engage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Son
> 
> Mother, don't hold me,  
> Mother, your caress hurts me,  
> See through my face,  
> How I glow and wane.  
> Give the last kiss. Let me go.  
> Send a prayer after me.  
> That I broke your life,  
> Mother, forgive me.
> 
> Alfred Lichtenstein


	14. Lament and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warrior's Longing
> 
> I would like to lie in my bed  
> In a white shirt,  
> Wished the beard was gone,  
> The head combed.  
> The fingers were clean,  
> The nails also,  
> You, my tender woman,  
> Might provide peace. 
> 
> Alfred Lichtenstein

**Empire Day + 6 months**

A flash of color intrudes in the dead man's mind, as if a switch on a holoscreen had been activated. A flower--a blossom of light swells from the center.

The burst of light shrinks to a pair of violet eyes, open and staring at him. A gaping wound at the temple above the eyes.

The serene smile on the face of the woman below the eyes.

Those same eyes staring at him over a lightsaber, as they train and spar. As they laugh together at something one or the other had said.

Those same eyes narrowing at something stupid that he had done. A patented lecture designed to teach him something. A lecture that for about two sentences would impart the lesson that needed to be learned; that would make him feel about the size of a _themiar_ , but within ten seconds would impart the love and pride that she felt for him.

Those same eyes shining with pride through a hologram as a younger huntress simulated a shoulder tap with her lightsaber. The words and the gesture as well as a cutting gesture for his braid, signifying his move to full adulthood among his kind.

An endless loop plays over again. Her brilliant blue blade. One she had constructed herself as a youngling, plunging through her heart from the rear, as one of the beings that she loved like children answered his programming and murdered her.

Just like thousand of his brothers did on that day. To hundreds of her fellow Jedi.

The loop stops. The dead man hears voices above him, as if he is underwater. He feels as if he has been submerged several times since he died.

There is silence.

 **Free Vessel _Opportunity_**  
**The Outer Rim**

A beautiful pirate watches a dead man sleep. She runs her fingers gently through his hair. Hair that has grown out from the shaved look before he died.

His mixed dark and fair hair had grown back in solid iron-gray.

Lassa Rhayme moves her hand to his smooth face. For the six months since his life had ended, she had kept her own sanity by shaving him. Every day.

Six months since his previous life had ended. Along with everyone like him.

His beloved Master included, as well as a young woman whose light both of them had fallen into for a couple of months before the maelstrom. She is not sure of either of them, but the chances are good that they are dead.

He had been unconscious since then. The med-droid had told her that his injuries had been repaired; it was up to him to come back to them.

The young Wookiee stands next to her, looking down at his teacher. His Master. Gungi is sure that they are dead, as he tells her that he can feel no one in his mystical connection to the Force.

He says he can't feel the man lying in the medbed, but the monitors tell that he is actually alive.

Only the man that he was is dead. As dead as his past.

She and the Wookiee look at each other as they see his eyes stop moving beneath his eyelids. They both sit and wait. Wait to see if he will awaken.

Or if he will surrender to the darkness and oblivion.

Lassa Rhayme and Gungi watch as he struggles with his choice.

XXXXX

The soft light is still painful on the waking man's eyes. Eyes that have not been opened in months. He keeps them closed.

He senses a change. Where there has been an undercurrent of a connection in his mind since he can remember; there is nothing. Only silence in his mind.

He hears a rhythmic beep in his ears. He opens his eyes. He knows this place, but cannot recall how. He senses the lights come up slowly, by degrees.

He looks over and sees a beautiful woman sitting in a chair next to the bed.

A bed surrounded by medical equipment. A medical droid swims into his view. He feels a pinch as something is injected into his neck.

Actually, more than a pinch. A sharp pain. His eyes close.

When he opens them again, the beautiful woman, her blue skin soft and inviting stands over him looking at him with eyes the color of bronze. The pain present in his hip and shoulder has faded to a dull ache.

The pain in his heart and soul is just as raw.

Her fingers gently caress his forehead. Many of the machines have gone. He looks behind him and sees starlight through a large transparent port.

He knows this room. A small alcove attached to the captain's quarters. The captain's quarters of an Outer Rim pirate.

A cabin in which his life changed two months before he died. Where he and a young woman--an ex-Jedi, had first made love, encouraged by the owner of the room. The blue skinned woman who had stood watching over him as he slowly wakened, her bronze eyes full of sadness; her lips soft as she kissed him when the sedative sent him into a calmed sleep. A sleep without dreams.

The woman whose body and nature had shown him light and a future with that young Togruta.

A future now gone. Scattered with ashes of his family. Of the only life he had ever known.

He feels his eyes tear as he tries to remember the names of these people. His own name.

He was Taliesin Croft. A Jedi General. The name actually died a few days before the purge and massacre of the Jedi. He shakes more of the fuzz from his thoughts. He knows that this is not the name that he was born with. His memory tells him that he has only learned this recently.

He fights for the name of the pirate. A Pantoran. A woman without family except for her crew and those under her protection.

_Lassa. Lassa Rhayme._

He can feel unused muscles protest as he smiles with the knowledge.

Croft, or the man who once lived with and under that name struggles for another name. The name of the huntress with smooth orange skin and azure and white lekku that twined about his hands as he stroked them in moments of respite and light.

His hunt-sister. In the traditions of her people.

His eyes tear as he reaches out for her in the mystical energy field that they shared. He feels nothing at all.

He thinks of her name. _Ahsoka Tano._

 _Runt._ The nickname of a teacher for his student, and later a name whispered when that same student was older and something more.

A nickname from his own past; his own adversity.

He slumps back onto the pillow; the tears streaming freely.

Lassa Rhayme walks into the alcove. She bends down and kisses the tears on his face.

She climbs into the bed next to him.

**Two weeks later.**

Taliesin Croft, or what was left of him, hobbles back into the captain's cabin. He sits down on the bed. He had made the circuit of the _Opportunity_ three times on this day.

He didn't even feel like he was going to puke after completing the circuit.

A smiling face greets him from the 'fresher as Lassa walks out, toweling herself.

 _Other things are starting to work properly, as well,_ he thinks as his eyes roam over her nude body. He picks up the cane that he has been forced to use with the injured hip and walks over to her. The effort is seen on his face as forces himself to use the repaired shoulder to hold the cane.

_At least I'm no longer having to have my Padawan basically carry me around anywhere. Thank the Force for Wookiee strength._

Lassa stops toweling herself off. She smirks at his appraisal. She walks over to him before he gets more than two hobbled steps from the bed. He starts to protest as she guides him back to the bed. She kisses him to silence them.

"No, love," she says. "Another couple of weeks then we might see about some tension relief." She shakes her head, as his hand runs up her hip. "Come on," she says with a hint of an edge. "You already walked two more laps of the ship than you were supposed to. You need to stop pushing yourself, Tal."

He seizes her with his left hand and pulls her to the bed next to him. She grins and lays her head on his chest on the left, or uninjured side. She kisses him gently.

She shakes her head and grins at his reaction. "Contrary to the male belief, a hard-on won't kill you."

A rare, sheepish grin crosses his face. She sobers. "You are still healing. Not just from the wounds. I know that you are reeling from the loss of the Jedi." She looks down, her eyes tearing. "From the loss of Ahsoka."

He falls silent. He reaches up with the hand of the healing shoulder and wipes her tears away, gently. "I miss her, too, love," Lassa says. "I can't imagine a universe without her in it."

She looks at him. "Do you think that there is a chance....?"

"I doubt it, Lassa. Gungi and Adis have been making the discreet trips to poke around. I had really been hitting his shielding training when we were here last." The pain in his eyes grows. "They haven't found any evidence of Jedi. The Empire is almost finished consolidating the Core and Mid-Rim. They'll start in the Outer Rim soon."

"Yeah. And pirates will be just as popular as Jedi, here soon. Not exactly the safest life for you and Gungi to hide in."

He nods. "Speaking of which, I need to have a talk with him. I have come to a decision."

"You know he is welcome here, Tal. Just as you are."

"I know. But he might attract attention if the Empire starts using Force-sensitives." His eyes focus on the far wall. "I can't put you and yours at risk anymore, Lassa. I've already cost you Thorin. I cost Thyla an eye. If I had any connection to the Force; I might be out of here if I couldn't trust my shielding."

Lassa kisses him again. "We would take the risk for either of you. The crew voted that we will protect you. Must be your cooking. Can't be your personality."

He smiles. "No. Can't be that."

They lie there, quietly, remembering and living.

**Empire Day + Seven months.**

Thyla Secura sits in the lounge drinking caf. She watches Taliesin Croft clean up after breakfast. The galley and messroom is empty except for them. She reaches up and scratches under the patch that covers her ruined right eye. Every time she does, she sees the blue skin of her twin, his laughter tearing at her heart.

Croft turns, like he does every so often and stares off at the far distance. No one can tell what he is looking at.

When they had first seen each other, after his rescue and her recovery, he couldn't face her. Knowing the cost of his life.

Unbeknownst to him, she had walked into the captain's cabin while he was sleeping, a few months into his coma or whatever it was and had watched him.

Her bitterness over Thorin's death and her injury had evaporated, watching him struggle to live. To retain his grip on the world. They had nearly collided in the passageway. He had turned in the other direction. She had seized his good arm and turned him to her.

His eyes had tracked down to the deck. She had lifted her hands to his face and brought his eyes to hers. The pain in his eyes grew as he locked on the eyepatch over her still-healing eye. Thyla drew him into her arms. There were no words.

She is startled out of her reverie by Gungi walking up to Croft. Thyla stands and exits. _This is not for me,_ she thinks.

_"Lassa said that you wanted to see me, Master?_

"Gungi, I can't protect you any more." He takes a deep breath. "You need to go underground."

He sees the Wookiee's eyes look quizzically at him. _"What does that mean, Master?"_

"It means that you are going to find a hole and hide in it. You will give up your lightsaber and you will never, ever touch the Force, except to build your shields as I taught you."

Gungi's eyes widen and then flash. _"What the hell do you mean, Master? I am not going anywhere. I am a Jedi."_

Croft shakes his head sadly. "No, lad. The time of the Jedi is done. There are no Jedi anymore."

Gungi roars. He starts towards Croft. _"Just because you were ready to give up on the Jedi, doesn't mean everyone else was. Some of us were going to have to continue the fight."_

For an instant, Croft's anger flashes. He centers himself. "I am not getting into what choice I made, Fuzz, with you right now. It was what I needed to do."

_"Yeah, Croft, it was all about you."_

The Corellian grits his teeth. "Gungi. I am not arguing with you. I took your lightsaber this morning. Adis is taking you somewhere out in the Rim or Wild Space. I don't care. I don't even want to know where you are. Lassa has a lot of credits for you, as well as other weapons. You should be able to survive, if you are careful."

_"So you want me to run? You want me to be a coward like you?"_

Croft smiles sadly. "No, son. I want you to live."

 _"I am not your son."_ He bares his fangs. _"I would never want to be related to a kriffing coward like you."_

Croft looks at him. Gungi takes a deep breath. Tears can be seen in the young Padawan's eyes. _"I wish you had died with the rest of the Jedi. Instead of Ahsoka."_ he says.

He turns and stalks out, pushing past Lassa. "Tal, I am sure that he didn't mean it....."

She takes him in her arms. He looks into her eyes. "Can't say I disagree with him."

They rest in each other's arms, their minds elsewhere.


	15. Epilogue: Faith and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind: it hath no stalk: the bud shall yield no meal: if so be it yield, the strangers shall swallow it up. 
> 
> Hosea 8:7

**Chalacta**  
**Collective of the Adept-Apostates**  
**One year after Order 66**

The Refuge-Mother knocks gently at the hut door. The young woman inside quietly whispers her assent for entrance.

When she enters, the Mother bows gently. The young woman returns the bow and smiles. "Are you well, child?" the Mother.

"I am, thank you."

Her eyes give the woman pause. The lines around them, as well as her mouth speak of pain and trial. The woman's gray-streaked dark hair speaks of someone much older than her late twenties.

The place on her forehead where a Jewel of a Lesser Adept of Chalactan Illumination once rested is bare. The woman's cowl and hood rests on the table.

Her powerful dark blue eyes are bright and alive. Though just as sad.

"We could use some help in the fields, if you are able, child."

The younger woman smiles. The colony is small and out of the way. It raises its own simple food and makes its own way on the world of these spiritual people.

"I will be there, Mother. I have to take care of something, though."

A slight noise from the basket on the bed tells the older woman what that something is. "Very well, Lan Ven," the Mother says. Her smile grows wider. "It will be good to have your company in the fields. You have a beautiful voice for the songs, when you use it."

The young woman's own lips quirk upward in a smile. They bow to each other. The older woman pauses before she turns to leave. "Child, I know that you have been through a lot. The spirits above and below know that the little joy that you have came at a high price and a great deal of pain." She can see the young woman remembering the pain.

All of it. "I have faith, that things will be easier for you. I hope that you will allow me to have that faith for you, even if you don't, sweet one."

A sly smile flows across the serene features. A serenity that recalls another mentor. "If we do get any attention from the Empire, you might want to come up with a name that might sound a bit more like it belongs on Chalacta, dear."

The young woman smiles after a moment. "Thank you, Mother," is all that she says. _I will only change this name when I have another to add to it,_ she vows. She is thankful that no one has called her on her choice.

Most everyone here is running or hiding from something.

She sobers as she thinks of the Mother's words. _What of your own faith?_

She closes her eyes and centers herself. She reaches out; something she does every day since she had woken up.

She attempts to touch the mystical energy field; the ancient bond.

The young woman opens her eyes after a moment. _Nothing_. Not even the 'background noise,' that she has felt for as long as she can remember.

She shakes herself out of her reverie. She walks over to the bed and reaches and reaches into the basket, from which noises are coming more frequently and with more volume.

Her heart leaps as she does. As she does everytime she picks up the contents of the basket. It leaps with love and pain.

A tiny child, only a couple of months old is brought up to her chest. With one hand, she picks up a towel and drapes it over her shoulder.

She looks into the near-black eyes of the child. Eyes that in their shape remind the young woman of the girl's father. The bronze skin and dark hair is of both of the parents.

The skeptical look, with a tiny hint of humor, is all the father.

The young mother works at the buttons of her top until her breast is exposed. With a practiced movement, she brings the baby girl to her breast. As she does, she looks at the ruin of her lower torso; the scar tissue. The reminder of a battle that she could not win. She runs the back of the fingers not holding the child over rough skin. She remembers another who ran his fingers over her skin.

Her child latches onto the nipple.

The mother smiles. _Practiced now, but wasn't exactly taught about this where I came from._

The young woman's smile fades as she looks out of the window at the fields. The little girl feeds contentedly as her mother thinks about faith.

 **Mandalore**  
**Keldabe Province**  
**One year after Order 66**

A dead man walks down a gladed lane. His walk is purposeful for one who doesn't know where the hell he is going.

He is going there purposefully, though.

He stops and sighs. He takes a sip of water from his bottle. He shifts his pack and the purloined DC-15S that he bears. He smiles ruefully as the blaster shifts on his chest strap.

For the first time in recent memory, he is walking into the unknown without the comforting weight of a lightsaber on his hip and that connection to a mystical energy field.

A mystical energy field that no longer bound him to his kind. A kind that had vanished from the Galaxy in one fell swoop of madness and killing.

In his pack, he can feel the reassuring weight of two of those arcane weapons. Weapons of a teacher and student. Weapons that do not sing to him as the blade that he constructed years ago under the watchful tutelage of an ancient droid.

They only sing to him of love.

He caps his water bottle and continues his journey. He marvels at the unique beauty of this preserve. Keldabe had been spared most of the destruction of the various wars that laid waste to the rest of Mandalore, including the latest one in which Mandalore had burned.

He shakes his head angrily as the memories come back and squeeze his heart. Memories relayed to him by an old Mandalorian in a bar on some Hutt shithole. Stories of a young woman leading a battalion of her brothers and her allies to free this benighted world from the darkness of the Sith.

A world that is his, just as much as that green gem that he left behind.

The dead man thinks back to how he came here. Not just the stories, but the true catalyst.

A beautiful Pantoran pirate captain. A woman dealing with her own losses in the maelstrom. The loss of another Force-user - a woman who had found her way back to the light, even as she died to save another.

The shared loss of that young woman who had fought on this world.

His face is split again by a rueful grin. The six months since his mind had come back. Six months that he spent on her ship. Cooking and fighting alongside her crew, trying to earn a living and stay off of the sensors of the new Order.

A new Order that had massacred his people. A new Order that did not look favorably on pirates, either, reserving a slow death at the end of a cord for them.

Six months spent existing. Sharing light with the pirate in her bed.

It was after one of those light-sharing sessions, one in which they both fought for breath as the explosions receded. They had turned on their sides, still connected, as their bodies rested.

She had looked in his eyes, her bronze reflection of their shared pain. But something else as well.

What she had said next had set him on this long walk. She had placed her hand on his face and had told him he was no longer welcome on her ship.

 _You can't stay here, love,_ she had said. _I can't have someone moping about waiting to die. I'm afraid you will take some of my crew with you on some of those crazy-ass stunts you have pulled._

_You have to go somewhere else to die. I won't watch you destroy yourself and I won't let you take anyone else that I love with you._

He had made to protest, but the argument had died with her next words.

_She wouldn't have wanted that for you. I only knew her a brief time; I saw you both grow into something--just for a brief moment. But what I do know of her is that she wouldn't want this for you._

She had allowed him to stay until the morning, when they arrived at his chosen place. She had taken him one last time in her arms before morning and had held the darkness at bay.

She was not there when he had said good-bye to the rest of the crew. Neither was a certain Wookiee--a young warrior who he felt he could no longer protect. A Wookiee who had called him a coward and wished him dead when he told the pirates to take him somewhere remote. Somewhere that he could live, somewhere even his former Master didn't know where he was.

He returns to his contemplation of this beauty that she had fought and most probably died for. Keldabe Province. Ten thousand square kilometers of precious forest and farmland. Of a rugged beauty enclosed in its own dome. The largest on Mandalore.

He smiles. A beauty that had somehow survived, despite the fierce warriors who were born and bred here.

Beauty surrounding an ancient citadel on a plateau. The ancient center of Mandalorian life. The seat of the _Mand'alor_. Before a new regime moved the capital to Sundari. A city that did burn when Ahsoka and her brothers fought for it.

Before an even wider galactic regime forced the True _Mand'alor_ into exile.

His reverie comes to an end as he approaches a driveway to his left. A broken sign leans with the inscription in old Mando'a script.

_Skirata._

He opens the rickety gate and enters. He continues past farm land to a compound. A compound made up of several houses and outbuildings. A few listless nuna search for scraps on the ground. Otherwise there are no other living beings apparent.

He looks to his left as he hears hammering. A rhythmic hammering punctuated by Mando'a curses. Curses in a light, musical voice.

He walks towards the shed where the imprecations seem to be floating from. He stops and watches the scene unfold before him.

A slight figure. A figure who would only come up to his nose.

He watches as the figure's bronzed, muscled arms hold a piece of metal steady and swing a hammer at the recalcitrant metal. She stops and stands straight. Her hand tightens on the hammer as she slowly turns.

Dark brown eyes, almost black, look him over. She puts the hammer on the table behind her and pulls a weapons belt off of the table. Slowly, deliberately, she puts it around her hips and buckles it on.

All the while close to the hammer she had laid down.

Just as slowly, just as deliberately, the dead man takes off the blaster by its strap by his fingers and lays it on another worktable. His pack follows it.

He walks sideways away from the discarded items with his palms out. She is still tense, but he can see a glint of amusement in those appraising pools.

"We ain't buyin' what you're sellin." she says in Mando'a.

He lets that easy grin come across his face. The grin that is his other culture's birthright.

"Ain't sellin' what I could be givin' away, darlin." he answers in Basic.

A hint of a smile quirks one side of her lips. "Ain't seein' much I'd be wantin' even for free," she retorts in Basic.

"What do you want, _besom?_ " he asks pointedly. His eyebrows raise at the term. _Dirty lout?_

He resists the urge to check his smell.

He smiles his most disarming grin, the one that a certain Togruta elder had sometimes shaken her head at.

One that had made a younger Togruta's heart leap when they fell into each other, much later.

"The _Kalbuir_ said I could come here. There might be work and I could learn a few things."

Apparently the grin isn't as disarming as he thought, as her hands continue to rest on a Westar on her right and a sheathed, curved sword on her left.

A _beskad_. The ancient Mandalorian blade, made of the unbreakable Mando iron.

Her eyes remain amused, but with a healthy dose of skepticism. "Oh he did, did he? That old bastard really needs to stop promising with his mouth what his ass can't back up."

He tries to keep his face neutral, but she can see his face fall. He can feel his feet locking to the dirt floor as he brings his expression back to calm.

She looks through him, as if she was a Master of his old life examining a student.

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Well, there might be. But you have to get past me, first. In spite of what that old man promised you in a drunken fit of sentimentality, I am the one who decides who trains here."

She notices that there is no look of surprise on his face - or challenge.

"What?" she says. "You don't seem surprised that a 'mere slip of a girl' gets to decide your fate, here, _besom._ "

He doesn't reply immediately. He is thinking of a tiny orange whirlwind with an emerald blade in her hand.

"No. Not surprised at all, _alor._ " She starts at the title; but immediately regains her composure.

"You have any _beskar'gam?"_

"Nope. Just a _buy'ce._ " he says.

"If you survive, maybe we will help you forge a set," she says. "Do you have a clan?"

"Only my mother's clan." he answers. She notices he doesn't volunteer the name.

"Where does your father come from?"

He answers after a moment. "Corellia."

She smirks. "Oh, so you're a gambler, are you?"

"Sometimes."

"So tell me, Corellian. Why should I gamble on you?"

"Don't know. You should do what you think is right, _alor._ "

"What will you do if I don't accept you?"

"I'll figure something out. Don't have anywhere else to go."

Her eyes narrow. The phrase is said without inflection; without a desire for pity. Just a simple statement.

She looks at him for a few moments. "Okay, Gambler. Let's go to the dojo. See what you have got."

For the first time, he allows the warmth to play in his green eyes, as well as his easy grin. "What do I get if I win, besides the chance to train and work?"

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, there, sport," she says. "You are probably not going to win."

"But," she says with an almost painfully familiar smirk, "if you need an incentive, if you can pin me once, you can have your pick of my older brothers."

His grin turns into his own approximation of that smirk. "Very generous of you. Are you the guardians of their virtue?"

"Pretty much. I am the youngest and smallest of the family, but I am the one who got the brains. Mind you, a couple of them already have their own little biters in arms or running around. Or in the oven. You might have to fight their mates for them."

"I'll keep that in mind, Gatekeeper. May I ask your name?"

She looks at him with that appraising look. "My name is J'ohlana Wren."

He nods. "Right now, you can keep calling me _alor_. I like that. If you pin me twice in there, you might be able to call me 'Lana."

As they walk towards another outbuilding, he chances it. "I think that I might call you J'oh. Whether I beat you or not."

She smirks. "We'll see about that, _besom_. We'll see."

"What do you I call you, other than 'dirty lout?" she asks.

"Don't really have a name. The people who I spent the last few years with would say that I need to earn it."

She stops and looks at him. She sees the shadowed look in his eyes. She doesn't remark on his matter-of-fact statement.

She nods. "Let's work on that one together, _Vod,_ " she says softly. They continue to his new life.

For the first time since he died, the man who was Taliesin Croft feels a hint of something in his frozen heart.

 _Hope_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have stuck on this long journey. I appreciate the readership, the kudos and the comments. 
> 
> This is not the end of the story; even as it is the end of the series. There are plenty more stories to tell. Time to move more to what they become.
> 
> Thank you again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Atin'la](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9338576) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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